


Down to Ruck

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asexual Character, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Breaking Up & Making Up, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Friends With Benefits, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mutual Pining, Overdosing, Phobias, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Rugby, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, but a bit less of a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-06 01:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: All Keith wanted was a tutor, someone to give him answers so he could pass Calc 1. It's not like he cared about the class, or about school, at that. He'd come to GU for one thing and one thing only: rugby. And yet, after meeting his tutor, Lance, and accidentally entering into an odd arrangement, he finds himself continually drawn back to Lance, and not just for sex. Having never committed to anything apart from his sport, he's both ignorant of his budding feelings, as well as unintentionally dismissive of Lance's. Thankfully, he's got the whole GU rugby team at his back, who, though lacking on the field, are at least capable of helping him get his head out of his ass before he screws things up with Lance too much.





	1. Offside: player too far forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo~ I apologize for a super long chapters... I was kinda hoping this would be a one-shot... As it is, i believe it will be something of a three shot! :D Enjoy rugby player Keith and super mega nerd Lance falling into bed and then falling in love. Yay. Also i played rugby for like a year and so am basing this off of my experiences with the lovely sport that kicked my ass and made me feel concussed every game thus prompting me to quit--college becomes impossible when you can't read your laptop screen lmao
> 
> ft. Keith with walls and issues, Lance with insecurity and issues, Shiro with snark and no patience for Keith's bullshit, and more

It started innocently enough between them—though that lasted all of about twenty minutes.

Keith wasn’t sure who could rightly take the blame: him for not understanding how to take out his frustrations in a healthier way, or Lance for even suggesting it. Maybe he could blame his team for causing his angst in the first place, a subpar performance earlier that day that could’ve been avoided if the rest of them were as laser-focused on the season as he was. Though perhaps they couldn’t help that their schedules weren’t as free as his. None of them had chosen their school specifically for the rugby program, after all, instead choosing it for academics and then walking onto the team after hearing about it from friends or posters.

He on the other hand had always wanted to play rugby at Garrison University—to win at Garrison University, specifically. He’d worked his ass off all through high school to get the grades just to get accepted, all the while traveling with his club team and further honing his skills. Rugby was more than just a sport to him, it was everything. He fully intended on going professional at some point in his life, would’ve even skipped the whole college thing if he hadn’t been accepted to GU, but much to his parent’s relief, he would at least get a quality education as a bit of a back-up plan. He’d certainly had offers outside of GU, both from other schools and minor league teams, but he turned them down in favor of becoming a Lion.

It was only the first game of the season, but for some of their players, it was their first rugby match ever. Keith was by no means a patient man; he’d already had his fair share of reprimands from their coaches and trainers in the few short weeks since the start of school for chewing out several fellow freshman—and in some cases upperclassmen—for messing up at practice. He’d barely kept his cool through the match, and it was only thanks to his teammate Shiro that he hadn’t lashed out too much.

On top of all that, midterms were upon them, and he was hardly prepared. He went to class, at least, turned in his assignments on time and was responsible in that regard. But he hadn’t spent any of his free time studying the material, instead using it to get in an extra workout or training session. His coaches had allowed him use of the pitch outside of training hours for that exact reason, as he didn’t think their triweekly practice schedule was sufficient.

Despite it being a Saturday, Keith was going to be spending the night cracking open his overpriced textbooks for the first time. Shiro had recommended a tutor to him in order to guide his work, which is how Keith met Lance.

Keith thought it clear from the beginning that they would not get along outside of Lance’s duties as a tutor for his calculus 1 class. Lance was too loud, too friendly, and had a smile that was too trusting. Keith was immediately taken aback when Lance had thrown an arm around his shoulders, welcoming him into his dorm room’s common space with a huge grin, offering him water, snacks, or beer. Keith had raised a brow at the last suggestion, and Lance only laughed.

“Should you be encouraging drinking while studying?” he had asked.

“One or two beers isn’t gonna hurt you any! Where I’m from, it’s completely normal to have as much everyday. I’m not gonna pressure you, but would it be alright if I had some wine during our session, at least?”

Was that allowed? Keith had wondered. He only shrugged, accepting a beer. It’s not as if he wasn’t familiar with drinking, after all, it being a staple in the rugby community.

That was another odd thing about Keith’s whole situation: why exactly rugby? Someone like him, closed off and easily moved to anger at the slightest provocation… sure, sports were a good outlet, but team sports? Especially when it was often expected to socialize with the opposing team just after the match, no matter the outcome?

But there was something about the game itself he’d always admired. The power required, the skill, speed, and grit… and unlike some sports, everyone was expected to be able to perform any job, be it rucking or passing or running. He himself was a back, not quite big enough to compete in the scrums, and he was damn good at it. In high school, he’d been the backs captain, often playing as the scrumhalf. He wasn’t a fan of that position, preferring to stay out on the wing and make the longest, hardest runs, usually forced to outmaneuver the enemy’s biggest, strongest forward instead. The challenge, the rush… At those times, it felt as if it was just him cutting across the field—though of course he could go forward with the confidence that someone would be backing him up should he fail.

Well, he’d _had_ reliable back-up in high school, but apparently not at GU.

Through all his brooding, Lance was working through problem after problem, showing Keith where he’d made some mistakes on the homework that his professor had so generously marked up in red.

“Dude, are you even listening?” Lance asked. Again, apparently.

“Huh?” Keith looked up from his contemplation of his beer can to meet Lance’s exasperated stare.

“You seem a bit distracted… we can reschedule to tomorrow if you want?”

Like that would do any good, Keith thought. They had their second match against the same team the next morning, after all, and he was sure he’d be in a similar state. “No, sorry, I’ll pay attention.”

“Alright. Here, let me give you a problem similar to this big one that you missed, but with different numbers. I’ll watch how you work your way through it and help if you get stuck, okay?” He scribbled a new equation on a sheet before passing it across his small card table to Keith.

“All the parts?” he asked.

“Yup,” Lance smiled before taking a sip of his wine—had he brought wine glasses with him? What a strange freshman.

Keith picked up his nearest pencil, looked at the problem, and had no idea how to proceed. Still, he wrote a few symbols beneath it, things he’d vaguely recalled being written up on the chalkboard. In an attempt to retrieve any memories from that particular class period, he found that he was much better able to picture what had happened at practice that day just after his class, but not the content of the class itself.

“What are you writing?” Lance asked. “You got through the first two parts well enough on the assignment, I know you know it!”

Keith grumbled, reaching for his homework. “Let me see my old work, then,” he said.

Lance swiped the paper and held it behind him. “Nuh-uh, no way, mullet. You won’t be able to ask Professor Smythe to look at your notes and homeworks during the exam!”

He groaned. “I just need, like, a starting point.”

“Try and think back, then. Figure what you’re actually supposed to find, what you’re given, and then,” Lance snapped his fingers. “Math it out.”

Keith huffed. “Ah, yes, ‘math it out’. Thanks so much, tutor,” he rolled his eyes.

Lance glared in response. “Hey man, I’m getting paid for this time. If you wanna waste it daydreaming and not trying, it’s no skin off my nose.”

Turning back to his paper, Keith tried his hand once more. He made his way through the first part, Lance nodding encouragingly at him when he showed him his work. On part b, however, he dropped his pencil, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arm. “Look, I don’t know. Can’t you just tell me what to do?”

“But you did it before!” Lance pouted.

“Yeah, ‘cause I had my notes with all the example problems.”

“Those won’t—“

“Be on the exam, I know! Look, you’re the tutor, so just… teach me!”

Lance inhaled sharply through his nose, looking like he had every intention of tossing Keith out right then and there. Instead, he snatched up Keith’s paper, writing alongside his chicken scratch the correct solution, steps clear and well-marked.

“There,” he said, flicking it back across the table. Keith eyed the numbers over. Well, when it was in front of him, it made a lot of sense. He just had to memorize it, then, and just plug in different numbers on the exam. Easy.

“See, was that hard?” he asked, tucking the paper into his folder.

“Excuse me?” Lance’s mouth fell open. “That’s not learning!”

“Sure it is. Now that I know what to do, I’ll just copy it!”

“Hey, trust me on this, you have to know the reasoning behind everything. Coran’s a little shit on exams and the problems are usually nothing like the homework.”

“How is that fair?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s doable if you cut through the random details. Easy, even.”

“How would you know, anyway? You tested out of the class, and you’re just a first year, too!”

“He’s a family friend, so I’ve known him and his techniques forever. Plus, in order to get the tutoring job, he made me take all the midterms and the final he gave last year,” he shuddered. “All at once. It was horrible!”

“So you have his old exams?”

“Yup.”

“Can’t I just look at one of those, then?”

Lance looked to the side, pensive. “Well… he’ll write new problems, of course, but I suppose it could be good practice for you. I don’t have any blank ones, though, just the one with my answers.”

“Perfect,” Keith nodded. “Then I’ll just take a few pictures of his first midterm from last year and be on my way!”

“Keith!” he whined. “That’s not learning!” he repeated.

“I mean, I’ll copy them down on my own at some point before the exam.”

“Just rewriting things in your own handwriting won’t teach you how to do them, dummy.”

He threw up his arms. “Look, I don’t even care about all this! I’ll never use it! Once I’m done with calc 1 and 2, I’m done with math for good! I don’t need to know how to do anything more than pass!”

Lance sighed, falling back and drumming his fingers over the table. “What are you studying?”

“Business.” He hadn’t yet decided on his focus in the business school, since he wasn’t quite sure what direction he wanted to go. He was hardly passionate about business, but he’d heard the first year business curriculum would be the least time-consuming, allowing him more time to focus on rugby.

Lance scoffed.

“What?” Keith snapped.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, you’re aware that business majors have like a shit ton of group projects, right? Presentations and networking are a huge deal. Most of them are usually a bit more… personable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he almost growled.

Lance gestured toward his whole body, his leaning, his snarl. “You’re hardly a charmer, you know.”

“I can be nice!”

“Then why are you yelling at a total stranger who’s just trying to help you?”

He huffed, leaning back. He took a few, calming breaths. “I’m… look. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.”

Lance, still frowning, nodded. “I mean, we’re all stressed. Midterms and all… do you wanna talk about it?”

“With you? Hardly.”

He hummed. “Yes, so nice, wow.”

“I’m not gonna open up to _you_!”

“Well, do you have someone to open up to, at least? You can’t just bottle up all your frustrations, you know. I may just be your tutor, but I mean, I’m your classmate, too. We gotta stick together,” he offered a smile.

Keith rolled his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

Lance sighed loudly. “Mi abuela passed away yesterday.”

Keith balked. “Huh?”

Lance continued. “It was expected, and she passed peacefully, at least. When I left for school, I visited her,” he looked off to the side, eyes growing watery. “No one said it, of course, but it was kind of our goodbye.”

“Uh…” Keith cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Was he? Sure, it was sad, but he didn’t even know Lance, know his relationship with his family, or anything.

“It’d be easier, I think, if I could afford to go home for the funeral. As it is, though, my family just can’t do that.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “Uh… where are you from?”

Lance brightened at that. “Cuba. Havana to be specific. Born and raised.” He frowned. “Even if we had the money, though, the way my visa’s working, I can’t just fly back. So I’ll be stateside till I graduate. I’m hoping at least to take summer classes so I can finish a bit earlier.”

“What brought you to GU?”

“It’s a top academic university, you know. I want to be a doctor, too, and their pre-med students have like a ninety-nine percent acceptance rate to med school.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Keith nodded.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“See, I opened up, now you do.”

“You tricked me! Is your grandma even dead?” he asked, then froze. That was probably insensitive.

“She died a few years ago, actually. It’s okay, though, she was a regular bitch,” he laughed. “But, look, we’re conversing. I’d almost say we’re friends.”

“Hardly.”

“Answer my question, Keith, ol’ buddy ol’ pal.”

He huffed, but didn’t feel the urge to disobey. “Fine. I came here for rugby.”

“That’s cool!” Lance smiled. “I don’t know a lot about rugby, other than that it’s super physically demanding.” He glanced over Keith, then nodded, humming appreciatively. “You sure look like you work out.”

Keith was a bit too distracted to notice the comment. He was brought back to the game, replaying each mistake like they had been captured on tape. “It’s annoying, though. I knew it wouldn’t be the top program in the country, but I wasn’t expecting them to suck so much.”

“Why’d you come here, then?”

“Back when I first started playing, GU was unstoppable. Rugby’s not super big in the states, even less so back then. But, they had a huge following, and they kinda started the trend of rugby stateside. They had a match in my town against a local professional team, and they swept them! It was amazing, how good they were!” he smiled fondly at the memory. “But, after that class graduated, it kinda went downhill. Still, I guess I’ve just… always had this dream to come here, to be a part of another era of… of greatness.”

“That’s amazing,” Lance reached across the table, then seemed to deem the motion inappropriate. He settled with leaning forward on his arms.

“We had our first match today…” Keith began.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” Lance probed.

“That’s an understatement. The freshman have no idea what they’re doing! My eighth-grade self could probably give them a run for their money.”

“I’m guessing it’s not like a sport that recruits people to come here? I gotta admit that I didn’t even know GU had a rugby team.”

“Yeah, they don’t. When I applied to GU I reached out to the coach, but he told me the same thing he tells all the rookies, to come out for try-outs. When I told him I actually played before, I was allowed to practice with the upperclassmen a bit earlier. Though, they’re not all that great, either. The only person I can trust to have my back is Shiro.”

“Oh, Takashi Shirogane?” Lance asked.

“How do you know him?”

“Coran’s niece is dating him, I think. I moved out here early in the summer and lived with Coran, so I met them all. Shiro’s hot as hell,” he mused. “So is Allura. Ah, such a beautiful couple!”

“I suppose he’s attractive,” Keith said. He shrugged at Lance’s shocked expression. “He’s my teammate, so… I've never really looked at him like that.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I guess that’s why I’m so… pent up. Just frustrated with the whole thing, the team… myself? Like, should I have even come here? Should I have just played somewhere else, or gone to school somewhere else?” His shoulders tensed, and his face was set in an uncomfortable expression. “Maybe it was just a dumb dream of a little kid. I should’ve grown up, been more realistic. I’m clearly not even smart enough to be here.”

“Don’t say that,” Lance said. “You got in, didn’t you?”

“But I don’t care about any of this school stuff!” he repeated, hand gesturing toward the stack of papers between them. “I’ll literally never use it.”

“Well… maybe not,” he shrugged. “But that’s kinda what first year is, just trudging through all the basic shit. Once you get deeper into your major, it’s a lot easier ‘cause you’re taking classes you’re passionate about.”

“The only thing I’m passionate about is rugby.”

“I see…” he hummed. “Well, still, you have to keep up with your work. Won’t you, like, get cut if your GPA falls too low?”

“Don’t remind me,” he grunted. “See? I just need, like, Cs or better to keep my spot on the team. Learning is hardly a priority for me.”

“I get that, and it’s cool you have something you’re so passionate about. But I feel like you need to, like, separate these parts of your life. Like, school can be a minor thing, but when you’re actually studying or whatever, you need to commit. Right now, you’re too focused on your match to even remember what I’m teaching you.”

He sighed. What was Lance not getting? He couldn’t filter rugby out of his life like that—it _was_ his life. “It’s not as easy as you seem to think,” he said. “How can I focus on this dumb stuff when my whole life plan is at stake?”

“It’s just one game, isn’t it?” he asked. He winced at Keith’s responding glare. “Okay… sorry for stating the truth.”

“Look, you probably just wouldn’t understand. And it’s not just one game, anyway, it’s two, technically, since the team isn’t gonna improve before tomorrow morning when we have to play them again. And then it’s more games because the team isn’t getting better!”

“Despite all your yelling at them?” Lance guessed.

“Precisely!”

He chuckled. “Not much of a captain type, then?”

“That’s not what I'm concerned about,” he said. “I’m not here to make friends.”

“But, team sports are all about trust, aren’t they? You train because you don’t want to let your teammates down during games, even if it hurts sometimes. Because at the end of the day, your team’s like your family, and you’d do anything to help them succeed.”

“That’s a very idealistic way of looking at it. My teammates are just as much my competition as the other team!”

“Yikes,” Lance shook his head. He sighed, shutting his math book. “Seems to me like you need an alternate outlet for your frustrations. I mean, you can’t just go on abusing your teammates. Even if you are some super talented star, eventually they’ll come to resent you if all you do is yell at them. Saw it in an anime once.”

“And what would you suggest?”

“Have you tried, like, jerking off?”

Keith flushed. “Excuse me?”

Lance shrugged. “Could help, you never know.”

“That’s hardly any of your business. And it’s not that kind of frustration!”

“I mean, maybe not, but what would it hurt? If you prefer to not be alone, I’m sure someone like you could easily find a willing partner, too! I know a number of lovely ladies who—“

“I’m gay,” he said flatly. Wait… why was he even humoring Lance? This topic was completely inappropriate. “Again, not that it’s any—“

“—okay, then get on Grindr? It’s pretty hoppin’ at GU, I’ve found.”

“Wait,” Keith eyed Lance. “You’re gay?”

“Bi, actually.”

“Oh.”

Smiling, Lance stood from his seat, plopping down on the bench next to Keith. He threw a lanky arm around Keith’s shoulders, leaning closely.

“In fact,” he murmured near Keith’s ear. “I could think of one particularly willing guy who’d love nothing more than to help you in your time of need.”

Keith swallowed audibly. What the hell was going on? It was like some poorly thought out porn plot, he thought. He’d just come for tutoring, not sex!

And yet, minutes later, the pair were desperately rutting against each other in the comfort of Lance’s bedroom, shirts and pants discarded. Keith’s tongue and lips seemed set on touching every last bit of Lance’s warm skin, while Lance’s hands couldn’t seem to settle on one place, sometimes clenching at his sheets, other times clinging to Keith’s arms or his hair.

“Touch me,” Lance managed through strangled moans. “Please.”

Keith relented, taking Lance’s dick in his hand and pumping. Lance copied the motion, his long fingers wound skillfully around Keith’s own cock, setting a pleasant pace. It was fast and raw, dirty and unrefined. In only a few minutes, they came together, guttural cries of pleasure on both their lips.

Lance came to first, pushing Keith’s body off with a complaint of “Heavy”. He retrieved a towel and wiped his stomach before folding it and tossing it to Keith.

“Alright, Keithy boy. Now let’s see if that head of yours is in a right place to study.”

Apart from his head wanting to pull Lance’s still-naked body back toward him, he was much more in tune with his surroundings. Thoughts of the game were far from his mind; whenever a stray memory flitted across his brain—why didn’t Shiro make that run? Or why did half their forwards get dumb penalties?—instead of wanting to tense up and lash out mentally, he just… let them go.

For the next hour, he actually listened to what Lance had to say about math, only getting distracted by his lips three times, which he thought was quite impressive. He was even able to answer one of Coran’s trickier problems, and Lance had reached out to squeeze his hand with a warm smile on his face.

On his walk home, Keith found himself simply content to be in that moment. He wasn’t dwelling on rugby, on math, not even on Lance, oddly enough. Leaves crunched beneath his feet, cicadas chirped around him, the sun was setting, overlaying the whole scene with a hazy glow. His brain wasn’t annoyed by the rays that managed to cut through the branches and temporarily blind him, or the incessant buzzing of bugs, or the leaves sticking out of his worn soles. They were just inconsequential occurrences, things that didn’t impact him and so didn’t require him to exert any negativity their way.

Even the next day, while his team was slowly being rolled—at least by a smaller margin than the day before—he was more level-headed. He walked up to a teammate after a bumbled pass, and they shirked away, reflexively bracing for his tirade. A few others looked on as well, expecting Keith’s usual loud show of disappointment.

“You keep doing the same thing when you pass,” he said.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll—“

“I know it’s kinda tricky to get the hang of,” Keith continued. “If you want, after the game we can stick around so I can show you the right technique.”

His teammate gaped openly, as did a few others.

As the game continued, Keith spoke more than he had in all their practices. He still barked orders—with notably less malice—but he also doled out compliments when due. Without his berating tone, the team’s overall dynamic improved; people weren’t so afraid of making mistakes, and ended up playing better due to a lack of crushing pressure.

Afterwards, while eating pizza with the other team, he even exchanged numbers with a few of them who he thought were particularly talented. They, too, recognized his skills and were happy to talk about the sport they all loved.

“You did good today,” Shiro said to him as he packed up his bag.

He smiled. “I always do,” he joked. “I didn’t get as many tries as yesterday, though.”

“No, but you really helped your team out. That’s important too. Not just your stats.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, glancing at his phone.

“So what got into you?” Shiro asked.

Unfortunately not Lance, he thought, snickering.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, as long as it’s not drugs or anything too risky like that,” Shiro nodded. “Glad you found your chill. Oh yeah, how was tutoring? I hope Lance didn’t rub you the wrong way—he can be a bit lively for some people. He’s a good guy though.”

If that was Lance rubbing him the wrong way, then he didn’t want it to be right. Keith smirked, though hid his look by turning his back. He and Shiro were close, admittedly. Team captain as well as the most competent player, in Keith’s opinion? Of course he respected him, looked up to him. But, were they friends? Bros who talked about hook-ups with one another? Shiro was dating a girl, too, and Keith didn’t even know if he would be comfortable with the whole gay thing.

“He’s pretty cool,” Keith said. He looked at Shiro, shocked to see his shit-eating grin. “What’s with that look?”

“Easy on the eyes, don’t you think?” Shiro asked.

Blushing, Keith averted his gaze. “What’s it to you?” he spat. “Aren’t you dating his friend?”

“Oh, of course,” Shiro continued. “But, I mean, doesn’t mean I can’t look. Legs for days, and his face? Plus I hear he’s into guys and girls, so—“

“Don’t even think about it!” Keith snapped. “He’s mine!”

Shiro paused, then burst into laughter. “I knew it! Oh my gosh you totally banged your tutor! No wonder you’re so mellow today!” He held up his hand.

Keith stared at it, confused.

“Dude, high five?”

“Oh,” he mentally chided himself before completing the ritual.

“I’m not actually interested, by the way,” Shiro said. “Just wanted to get a rise out of ya. So… Lance, huh,” he waggled his eyebrows. “Did you even learn any math?”

“I did, thank you very much,” he sniffed, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “It was… nice. I was a bit upset yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Shiro scoffed. “No shit.” He clapped Keith on the back. “When are you gonna see him again?”

“Uh…” he began. They hadn’t exactly talked about that, had they? He didn’t even have his number, as Shiro had been the one to arrange everything through the tutoring center's online portal.

Shiro sighed loudly. “You’re completely useless, aren’t you?”

“Only a little!” he insisted. “And, I don’t know… I kinda pegged it as a one-time thing? We’re both freshman, you know… And it’s not like I went in there expecting anything at all like that!”

Shiro hummed, nodding. “I’ll text you his number after I shower, how’s that? Your exam is Tuesday morning, isn’t it? Maybe you could use a bit more ‘tutoring’ before then,” he said, bumping his elbow against Keith’s, though given the height difference he hit Keith’s shoulder instead.

True to his word, an hour later Keith had a new contact in his phone. After hyping himself up for a few minutes, pacing his room and debating what to say, he hit send on his first message.

 **Hey. This is Keith.  
** 3:24pm

He’d already showered, so he slumped on his futon while he waited for a response. He waited. And waited.

Eventually the vibration of his phone on his chest roused him from his light snooze, and he may have accidentally flung the device across the room in his surprise. After collecting it, he smiled at the response.

 _Hey, Keith! :)_ _How’s it going?  
_ 4:18pm

 **Good. We lost, again, but it was fun**. –had it been? Or was he just making conversation? He didn’t usually call his losses “fun”. He’d grown out of the whole, “it doesn’t matter whether you win or lose so long as you have fun!” mentality ages ago, after all. Actually, looking back, he'd always been hypercompetitive and that phase had been very short-lived in his youth. Well, he supposed it had been enjoyable, and there were even a few times where his team had a good rhythm going, too.— **Are you busy?**  
4:20pm

 _No, not really! Well, technically I guess I’m always busy, like I should always be studying? Which is just ??? so rude??? Like hello profs I’d like time to eat and socialize please? Haha, but I just got back from a long day at the lib. Why?  
_ 4:20pm

He took a deep breath. Shoot your shot, Keith, he said to himself.

 **Well, my test is Tuesday. I was wondering if you could help me out again.  
** 4:21pm

He winced at the wording—hadn’t Lance used that exact terminology before they’d hooked up? While he wasn’t opposed to that kind of thing happening again, he also kind of needed math help, too.

 _Are you free later? I’m dropping my shit off in my room then my roomie and I are going to the DH. Have you eaten already?  
_ 4:22pm

 **I’m stuffed with pizza, ha. And what time? I’m usually up early so I can get a run in, so I like to be in bed by like 10.  
** 4:23pm

 _EXERCIIIISSSEEEEE????? And lmao you’re an old man!  
_ 4:23pm

 _How does 6:30 sound? My place again?  
_ 4:23pm

 **Says the guy getting dinner at 4:30  
** 4:24pm

 **And okay. See you then.  
** 4:24pm

 

* * *

 

Keith got his math help as well as another enjoyable makeout session followed by a handjob. Lance had ensured him that his roommate, Hunk, knew to keep out of the room for the next few hours, so they were better able to take their time while pleasuring one another.

He felt high as a kite all day Monday and Tuesday, even after his exam. Who knew studying actually helped you learn? he thought. They should really tell all the other students that little tidbit of information.

He didn’t really have an excuse to see Lance for the rest of the week, though they kept up a daily correspondence. On Thursday, after sending Lance a picture of his graded exam—an unexpected 94%—he received more Beyoncé gifs than he’d ever seen, most of them saying things like “SLAYY” and “YASS QUEEN”. It was outlandish, but it was very Lance. After the torrent of congratulatory messages, Lance insisted that he come over so they could “review the problems your dumbass fucked up”.

Instead of reviewing, Keith only managed one step into Lance’s apartment before Lance’s lips were on his. He was uncomfortably pushed against the door, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he wasn’t crushing his backpack with the motion. So, he pushed away from the door, tossed his backpack aside, then backed Lance up till he fell on his couch with a disgruntled “oof”.

Keith hovered over him, eyes raking hungrily over his body. Shiro had been right—Lance had legs for days.

“Wait, wait,” Lance said, moving to sit up while pushing Keith back. “I wanna do something. As a reward for your performance,” he purred. While Keith settled against the cushions, Lance slipped off the couch, falling to his knees and parting Keith’s legs forcefully. The position alone was arousing, and Keith fought the urge to reach for his dick.

Of course, Lance had no such qualms and immediately palmed over Keith’s crotch, smiling while Keith groaned at the too-weak contact. Chuckling, he made for Keith’s zipper, and in no time at all, he had his hand directly on Keith’s dick, working the shaft too slowly for Keith’s taste. His cocky smirk suggested that he knew just how aggravating he was being.

Before Keith could make a comment about the quality of his “reward”, Lance’s tongue met the tip of his dick, and he shuddered. Finally, after minutes of painful teasing, Lance sank his mouth over Keith’s length, boldly swallowing down to the base on his first movement.

Keith couldn’t help thinking that Lance would be the death of him. He set his hand on Lance’s head, breathing growing erratic with each passing minute as Lance slobbered over his lap with a passion Keith had never known one could show during a blowjob. His fingers played idly with the soft strands, too timid to grab with any more force.

Sadly, as with all good things, eventually his bliss had to come to an end, though he was comforted by the fact that his end was the most blissful part of the whole situation; Lance certainly knew what he was doing. Then he had the audacity to, after tucking Keith back into his pants, sit beside him grinning like nothing had happened. “How was I?” he asked.

Keith yanked him close, their teeth clacking in a clumsy kiss, Lance humming in amusement all the while. He wasn’t sure for how long they kissed, but soon Lance was humping Keith’s leg, seeking friction through his jeans. Not one to be ungrateful, Keith figured he’d be smart to return the favor, so he quickly put his hand to work, stroking Lance's cock while his mouth focused on biting and sucking various spots on his neck.

Even after Lance came, Keith lewdly lapping up the cum on his hand, they remained pressed together, lazily slotting lips and tongues, both happy to just remain as they were for as long as they could. Lance placed a particularly nasty bite in an obvious position on Keith’s neck, but he didn’t even mind.

They were broken from their trance-like dance by Keith’s phone, ringing persistently from his bag discarded by the door. He moved to pull away, but Lance surged forward, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth and prompting Keith to push back in retaliation. If his phone hadn’t have rung the second time, they may have been together up until Lance’s roommate returned.

“Sorry,” he murmured against Lance’s reddened lips. Finally free, he took a second to take in Lance’s disheveled appearance, blushing at the numerous reddening patches he’d left—he never was a fan of the marks, either on himself or his partners, as he thought they were a bit juvenile. Still, there was no doubt that they looked good against Lance’s deep tan skin.

Once across the room, he removed his phone from the side pocket of his bag. It was Shiro, and he answered, more than a bit upset.

“What?” he snapped, walking back toward the couch. It felt natural to put his arm around Lance’s shoulders, so he did just that, Lance nuzzling against his neck.

“Keith!” Shiro sounded worried. “Where are you?”

“Uh…” he replied. Lance directed his attention upward, nipping playfully at his earlobe. “What the heck, Lance?” he chuckled.

“Oh,” Shiro said. “You’re late for practice, you know?”

“What?” he stood quickly, pulling his phone away from his ear to check the time. Practice had started ten minutes previous—how long had he been in Lance’s room? “I’ll be there, sorry.”

“It’s not a huge deal, you can miss one practice to spend time with Lance!” Shiro insisted. “I’ll just tell coach you’re not feeling well, he—“ Keith hung up before Shiro could finish his statement.

“I totally lost track of time,” he said. At least he had his gear in his bag, but by the time he got changed and to the field, he’d be half an hour late. “I have to get to practice.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Lance stood, waving his hand in front of him. “Hey, you have a game this weekend, don’t you?”

They did—and here Keith was being distracted by a hook-up! How amateurish. “Yeah, three of them, actually. Away games.”

Lance looked interested. “Oh, do you play at home soon? I think Allura mentioned it. She was gonna go to cheer on Shiro…” he began, eyeing Keith significantly. “I was thinking of going with her next Sunday, maybe?” he voiced it as a question.

It was hardly Keith’s business what Lance got up into in his free time. He shrugged. “Cool. Hopefully we don’t lose again. Thanks for, uh… all the help. And, you know…”

“The sex?” Lance supplied, laughing. “Sure thing. Sorry I made you late.”

“No, it’s not your fault. That’s my bad. See you around,” he waved, feeling awkward. He didn't think it appropriate to kiss Lance goodbye, that felt too intimate. Lance waved back, and Keith was gone.

It had been a perfectly good day up until he got to practice—ironic as usually the converse was true. It was tradition for the upperclassmen to give the new players nicknames, and while most were based on their names, such as with Shiro, or the three Johns who instead were addressed by their respective last names, sometimes a certain characteristic or quality was the source, such as with their scrumhalf who was called Gimli, due to his resemblance to a certain dwarf created by Tolkien. Keith had yet to earn his nickname, though a few people had suggested Mullet, Billy, or Killer; they kept their identities hidden so as to avoid any wrath he may have felt for the names, though he was actually impartial, knowing it was just part of the team’s tradition.

He earned it his nickname that day, however, when Shiro spotted him running up to the team and elbowed the other captains.

“Nice of you to show up... Hickey,” he snickered. The others too fell into fits of laughter.

Keith glared, hand reaching for his neck in a futile effort to hide his bruise—he’d checked it out briefly in the bathroom when he’d changed. Where he’d left a handful of smaller marks on Lance, Lance had focused on one spot repeatedly, and it was ugly. Grumbling, he fell into the lineup for their drill, and by the end of practice, even his coaches had picked up on the name. He had no choice but to accept his fate, though he supposed there was one positive thing that came out of the horrid nickname. Shiro had accidentally let slip the gender of Keith’s “mystery lover”, and everyone on his team seemed to be accepting about it. Sure, the teasing was annoying, but they were at the very least respectable of Keith’s preferences. Sure, they weren’t the best team—yet—but maybe they would prove to be good friends or even, as Lance had said, his family.

 

* * *

 

The weekend came too quickly, Keith thought, classes and assignments passing in a blur. They were bussing to a nearby school for three games against three different schools, and he was nervous—not for himself, he rarely was, but for his team. As he’d pointed out to Lance, a week of practices wouldn’t be enough to correct the major problems they had, so they’d be going into the mini-tournament in about the same state as they’d been in during the previous week's games.

He was pleasantly surprised, then, when they came away from their first match with a win. It had been a narrow victory, and they’d allowed more tries than Keith thought justified, but it was still a win. Perhaps the first years were slowly starting to come into their skills, having needed a few games to deal with their entry into the sport. Keith supposed he had been as much of a wreck back during his first game, however many years ago that was. He’d almost convinced his parents that he was too sick to play, but his mother—the strict one—had seen through his bullshit and forced him to play. He was glad she did, as he fell in love with the game in no time at all.

Their second game was still a few hours away, and most of the players were resting in the common room of the house they’d rented for the weekend. They’d stuck around after their match to watch the other two teams play, so they’d had a chance to scout out their future opponents. One team had completely annihilated the other, and they had a handful of talented players on their roster to worry about. Keith doubted they could beat the winners, though he hoped at least that they could make a better showing than the other team. As for the team that had lost, if GU played as well and cohesively as they had that morning, he thought it likely that they could win.

He knew he’d be wise to use his time to work on some homework, as he wasn’t one for working on bus rides—the motion of the vehicle, the noise of the road beneath the bus’s wheels, and his teammates’ incessant chatter didn’t make for an ideal study environment.

Instead, he reclined on a beanbag chair in what appeared to be something of a storage room and pulled out his phone. He had a number of emails from clubs he’d made the mistake of signing up for during the first week of school, professors posting grades for quizzes and homeworks, and an email from the tutoring office. He clicked that message, where a link to a survey was waiting for him. He’d do it later, he told himself; he assumed they monitored the need for their tutors via the surveys, so in order to preserve Lance’s position, he’d take the few minutes to give some generic review.

Scrolling through his messages, he saw that he hadn’t texted Lance back since they’d last hooked up—was he supposed to? What were they, anyway? Friends with benefits? Lance had called them “friends”, but Keith wasn’t quite on board with that name just yet. And still… his hand hovered over the call button—would it be weird? It probably would be, wouldn’t it? Why the hell did he even want to talk to him? He was feeling fine after their victory, and he wasn’t trying to have phone sex or anything. Was he? He shook his head. No, he just wanted to talk to someone. But, weren’t his teammates just downstairs? Hadn’t they bonded enough over the weeks of hard workouts for him to feel comfortable talking to them? Among them, Shiro stood out as the one he was closest to—should he go to him? What did he even want to talk about?

“Helloooo?” Lance’s voice cut through his musings.

“Shit,” he said, drawing the phone close to his ear. When had he hit send? “Uh, hello?”

“Dude, did you butt dial me?” Lance laughed. “A literal booty call, huh?” Keith could easily imagine his signature eyebrow waggle with the remark.

He supposed it had been an accident, and he could easily say as such. “No,” he said. “I meant to call.” Shit. What was he doing?

“Oh? What’s up? I’m in the library with Hunk and Pidge. Working hard, you know.”

“Cool. I’m in Ohio. We had a game this morning.” God, he was awkward enough in person, but phone calls exacerbated his curt speech style.

“Yeah, I saw that! Congrats on the win!”

“How’d you know?”

“Allura sent me a screenshot of Shiro’s Snapchat. You look good in uniform, I must say.”

“Oh thanks.”

Lance coughed. “I also followed GU Rugby on twitter, just out of curiosity. Whoever runs your guys’ twitter is super funny!”

Keith had no idea who that might be, honestly.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Uh… like… how are you? Is there a particular reason you called?”

“Uh, not really. I can hang up if you want.”

“No! It’s fine,” Lance replied, voice sounding almost… fond? “How was the rest of your week? You had an essay due Friday didn’t you?”

Had he told Lance that? He supposed he had. Lance had actually been listening? His chest felt funny, a fluttering sensation that he tried to swallow down. “Yeah. It was weird, we had to write a paper to hand in, then write like the same thing in class, but in only the fifty minute period.”

“That’s so dumb!” Lance said. “Which one counts for more points?”

“They’re equal, part of the same assignment. I thought it was stupid, ‘cause like we had weeks to work on one big thing, then only the class period to summarize it? The professor said it was to prove that we could be concise, or whatever.”

Lance chuckled. “’Weeks’ you say? I bet you didn’t start the paper till Thursday night.”

“That’s not the point,” Keith laughed. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Of course, always the principle,” he hummed. “Are you busy next week?”

“I think I have an exam for my intro anthro class, but I’m not worried. That class is super easy.”

“Maybe you’re just super smart?”

“Don’t be silly,” he scoffed. “We’re covering basic bio stuff, high school level shit.”

Lance groaned. “Ugh, biology, don’t mention the word to me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I had a bio exam on Wednesday, and it was so hard! Then I've got a chem exam next Tuesday, and I am struggling over here!”

Those didn’t sound pleasant. Keith had heard one of his teammates complaining about the bio exam, though another had said bio wasn’t till next week. Were there two classes? “Sounds rough. What classes are you taking?”

“Gen chem for chem. majors with the lab, bio 1 for majors with the lab too, a history class on St. Petersburg, a Spanish lit class, and…” he paused. “Wait, I should remember this, shouldn't I? Ha… Oh! Yeah, I’m in this class that only meets on Fridays, so I tend to forget about it. It's an advanced 'Spanish for native speakers' class.”

What the hell was Lance even studying? Keith wondered. “That’s a lot of credits. Uh… What’s your major again?” Should he know that information? Had they discussed it? Looking back, it seemed as if Lance was much more aware of what was going on in Keith’s life than vice versa. Was it common practice to get to know the person you were hooking up with?

“Biochemistry!” Lance replied. “And my mom wants me to try and double major with Spanish, but that may not happen. I’ll be happy to minor in it, though, since all the classes sound super interesting.”

“You want to be a doctor, right?” Keith asked.

“Yeah…” Lance trailed off. “That’s been the dream forever.”

“That’s good,” he said. As often happened, his comment threw off the flow of the conversation.

Thankfully, Lance was up to the challenge. “It’s a lot of work, but my major is actually super cool! I’m going to try and join a lab sometime, that’ll help me with elective credits. And, if I can get grants, I could even travel places to do research during breaks!”

“Wow, sounds fun,” he said. “I’m not super into any of my classes. Well, my anthro class is cool. My professor wants to meet with me next week, though, to talk about a paper I wrote. Hopefully he’s not too harsh.”

“Maybe he just wants to tell you how awesome it was! You like the class? Then I’m sure he could see it in your paper!” Lance insisted, ever cheerful.

Keith found himself smiling. “You think so? I feel like he’s gonna yell at me. I don’t tend to censor myself in my writing.”

Lance laughed. “I’m sure he liked it even more for it. I bet professors are sick of all the boring shit freshmen throw at them. Yours probably stuck out! What was it about?”

“We’re going over like the foundations of anthropology, and we had to give a summary of the history in a chosen country. I chose the US, just cause, and since it was super racist in the beginning, I called that out.”

“Nicely done, Kogane,” Lance said. “Put those dead white guys in their place. Hey, maybe you should be an anthro major!”

“That’s a useless major.”

“Won’t any major be useless to a professional rugger? Is that a word? Do you call each other that? Oh shit, is it like, a thing only you guys can say and non-players can’t? If so, I apologize profusely.”

He chuckled. “It’s a word, and you’re allowed to use it. And, I don’t know. Upper level anthro classes seem like they’d be a lot of work.”

“But maybe it’d be work you enjoy? I don’t know, I’m just babbling here! Don’t dwell on it too much,” he laughed. “Aren’t you in, like, some intro business class?”

“Nah. For the business school you don’t take major classes till you declare, which happens right before sophomore year. So I’m just taking my generals.”

“That’s weird.”

“Is it? I haven’t noticed.”

“Hunk’s an aerospace engineer himself, and Pidge is comp sci. We’re all making our way through intro classes for the time being. They're tedious, but, it’s nice; gives you a chance to see if you actually like what you’re studying before you’re past the point of no return and have no time to change your major, you know?”

He didn’t know. “Sure.”

Another awkward pause. Keith really was terrible at asking questions. Yet as much as he tended to keep to himself, he had no qualms with answering any of Lance’s. “So,” Lance continued. “Tell me about your game. I see you scored two, uh… tries? Is that right?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right. They’re like touchdowns.”

“Ah, yes, American football terminology. My area of expertise,” he laughed. “Sorry, I’m more of a soccer guy. I guess I'll watch baseball on occasions, too. Was the team any good? They mustn’t have been, ‘cause, no offense, I thought you guys sucked.”

“We don’t suck!” he said, smiling, no bite in his words. “But, yeah, they weren’t very good.” Lance laughed—Keith found himself liking the sound. “I think we’ll win tonight, too. Tomorrow, probably not.”

“Aw… well, two of three is pretty good!”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. The team we play tomorrow is pretty highly ranked. They got, like, fourth at Nationals last year and have a lot of returning players, so it’s not that big a deal if we lose.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that,” Lance said.

Keith was frankly surprised himself. “Yeah, well, we’re getting better.”

“That’s right! Plus, you have four years here. If your freshman and even sophomore year aren’t winning seasons, who cares? And the fact that you have so many freshmen means you have tons of people to build up the program with, right?”

“I haven’t really thought of it that way,” he nodded. “I guess… you have a point.”

“I bet you’ll be national champs yourselves your senior year! Maybe even your junior year! Then, there’ll be tiny little Keith lookalikes in the outskirts of Texas watching GU rugby, and they’ll be like, wow, I wanna be like that Keith guy, horrible hair and all.”

“My hair is fine, thank you. And how’d you know I was from Texas?”

“Oh, uh… Allura mentioned it!” Lance said hastily. “Plus, your accent is horrendous.”

“I don’t have an accent,” he insisted. He may have grown up in Houston, but his moms were both born and raised in New England. If he’d developed a southern accent, they would’ve appointed a speech coach surely. “My moms hate Texas,” he said simply. “No accents allowed.”

“Two moms?” Lance sighed. “The dream. I wish I could clone my mom. She’s the best. Does that get confusing? Like, you’d be like, oh my mom said I can’t go, but my mom said I can, so I guess I’ll listen to mom.”

Keith chuckled. “Well, the older one, she’s got black hair, she’s stricter, more traditional, more frugal. I usually describe her as Mom 1, simply because of age. Mom 2 is the opposite, kinda the fun mom, I’ll admit. Crazy, blond soccer mom—well, rugby mom.”

“How’d they meet?”

“They actually met at GU. They were both, like, mega legacies here. Really conservative families, sent their girls to GU to find nice husbands. Instead, they found wives. United two pretty wealthy donor families.”

“So you’re like royalty in these parts, huh?” Lance said.

“I mean… I tried to keep that hidden during the application. I didn’t want to get in just because their families have donated money, you know? I wanted to earn it. Of course, after the fact, the truth came out, or whatever.”

“Oh, shit! Any perks?”

“Just random emails from the president inviting me to lunch. Not that I care.”

“Dude, you should go sometime! If anything, just to do something crazy! Like, demand that he put AC in one Lance Sanchez’s shitty dorm room, maybe?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “I’m not one for schmoozing.”

“You know, it makes so much sense now, why you’re so bad at dealing with people! You never had to worry about it all your life!” his tone was teasing. “Why, I’m sure your butler was forced to play with all the little kids growing up while you stayed back and watched.”

“It wouldn’t due for the Kogane heir to be seen on a metal slide, would it?” he replied. “I never liked those rich kids. I wasn’t in the US till I was eight-years-old, anyway, and they always treated me differently for it. I’m adopted.”

He gasped. “What? Two white women didn’t manage to produce an Asian baby? I am truly shocked.”

“Shut up! I’m opening up about my tragic past.”

“Ooh, I feel honored. Should I pop some popcorn for this reveal? Does it involve any murder plots? Or perhaps ancient curses?”

“Nothing too crazy. I grew up in South Korea with my birth mom. I don’t remember her much, though. I guess we weren’t in a good part of the country, we didn’t have a lot of money. Eventually, she couldn’t take care of me anymore, so she had to give me up. I was shipped to Texas, where a nice lesbian couple adopted me despite my age.” Oh god, he was opening up. No one liked a sad, orphan story; he only hoped Lance didn’t think less of him for it, or worse, pity him.

“Wow, uh… thanks for sharing that with me,” he cleared his throat. “You seem like you’re okay with everything, so I won’t say ‘I’m sorry’, or whatever.”

“Yeah, I know she loved me, that she just wanted what was best for me. I always knew that. Still, I kinda wish I could see her again, maybe help her out if she’s still in danger? I mean, I have more than enough money to do so. But I haven’t been able to track her down.”

“The adoption agency doesn’t know where she is?”

“No. I told them that I was interested in reaching out to her, and they tried to contact her. But, she wasn’t at our home anymore. No one has any idea where she might be.”

“Damn. Well, my money’s on her being an alien.”

“What?” he scoffed.

“Hey, it makes sense! See, she came to earth, fell in love with a human, had you, then some crazy intergalactic war called her home. She knew it’d be safer to leave you behind, so she did. I’m sure she’s out there kicking bad guy butt in the stars!”

“Maybe you should switch your major to creative writing,” Keith mused.

“I watch a lot of space movies, I’ll admit it! I have no shame!”

“Why would you? Space is awesome!”

“Right? Can we just mourn the fact that you and I were probably born too early in human history to get to explore the stars? Think of all the alien sex we’re missing out on!”

“Really? All the knowledge of the cosmos and you’d spend your time picking up aliens?”

“Of course! Just imagine all the possibilities! Tentacles and horns and fur and weird appendages!”

“Are you a furry?”

He gasped. “I am not! Just ‘cause I’d fuck a vaguely humanoidish alien that maybe had some animal characteristics does not make me a furry. I prefer the term extraterrsexual, thank you very much.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re ridiculous. And a furry. I hope you know that.”

“I am not!” he whined. “You’re a spoilsport. You’re like the Spock to my Kirk. Nay—the McCoy since you’re a southern belle.”

“Are all trekkies furries, or are you a special case?”

“I am quite special—but not ‘cause of that! Not that I am a furry! Or a trekkie! I’ve just, like, seen every episode and movie. It’s whatever.”

“Who has the time for that?”

“A young Lance who learned how to speak English watching American TV, that’s who. Hey, so you know Korean, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That may be the one language I don’t know how to say penis in, which really makes me upset.” He sniffled. “I thought I was a man of _culture_. Turns out I’m just a plebe like you.”

“What will we do with someone as unrefined as you?” he smiled.

“I only hope some wealthy gentleman will take mercy on my classless self,” he sighed dramatically. “Educate me on the ways of the world, such things I’ve never had the means to experience.”

“A wretch like you? You’d have to work hard to get noticed by someone so generous,” he said.

“Is that so? What would you have me do, then?”

He swallowed, noting the change in Lance’s tone. Were they… flirting? Like, not just teasing, but like, sexually progressing? On the phone? The same phone he called his moms with? He was going to hell.

“Depends on what you’d be willing to do for me,” he replied.

“Would you like me to describe what I’d do for you?” he asked, voice lower and even more sultry than before. "I could go on and on about all the things I'll do next time I see you..."

“Aren’t you in the library?” Keith felt his voice sounded too weak, and only hoped Lance didn’t notice.

“I found a private spot. We doing this or not, mullet?”

“Uh… I’ve never like, done this kinda thing,” he confessed.

“Have no fear, I’ve read all about it! You just gotta be comfortable and open. Are you alone?”

He glanced to the door. It would probably be wise to lock it, he told himself, crossing the room to do just that. Once he returned to his seat, he spoke. “Yeah.”

“Good." Lance sounded much more confident than Keith felt.

“Okay, uh, phone sex me up, I guess.”

Lance sighed loudly. “Alright, we’re going to ignore that verbage, and start now. Just follow my lead, rugger.”

 

* * *

 

One orgasm later, Keith said goodbye to Lance, promising that they’d try to meet up the next evening in order to, er, “act out” some of their fantasies. Who knew Lance had such a dirty mouth on him? After cleaning himself up, Keith decided to be social until their game, and he settled on the couch next to Shiro, nodding in greeting as others acknowledged him.

“Where were you?” Shiro nudged his leg.

“Oh, just needed to chill by myself for a bit.”

“I heard you talking,” one of the Johns, who they called Priz, noted. “Were you on the phone?”

“Uh, yeah. Had to make a call. Important school stuff.”

“Ooh, was it with the giver of hickeys?” their scrumhalf, Gimli, asked. “The man, the myth, the legend. Bless his soul for taming the tempest that is Keith.”

He blushed. “Of course not!”

“Ew, did you have phone sex? Right in front of all our salads?” Shiro asked.

“I did not!”

“That’s no fun,” Priz frowned. “Your hickeys are fading already, Hickey. Lance can’t give you more via the phone.”

“You’re disgracing your sacred namesake!” another John, known as Shey, added, shaking his head.

“What, I’m supposed to have a hickey 24/7? That’s so trashy,” he crossed his arms, scowling. “What would my professors say?”

“Well, what will our enemies think if we go on calling you Hickey and you’re unhickied?” Shiro asked. “That would be even more embarrassing, if you think about it.”

“What—who—“ he groaned. “That's horrible logic.”

His phone beeped, and he moved to shut off the sound. He may have had to put in on speaker so he could better, uh… focus on the task at hand as it were.

 _That was fun! ;) can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Good luck in your matches! Score some tries for me :D  
_ 5:23pm

He smiled at the message and started typing a response. Before he could react, Shiro swiped his phone from his hands. He quickly leaped at his teammate, but Shiro passed it off to Priz, who took on the task of reading the text with pleasure.

“Oh, Keith!” he batted his eyelashes. “I had so much fun phone-sexing you in front of your teammate’s salads!” Keith reached for his phone, to no avail. Shiro was much stronger than him, and his hold was sure. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow, when we’ll embrace passionately and I’ll give you more hickeys and, if you please, vice versa! Best of luck in your matches, I hope you remember me as you tackle other strange men. Love, your Lance, the giver of Hickeys.” Several teammates clapped politely, and Priz bowed.

“He doesn’t even sound like that!” Keith said. “You guys are the worst.”

“Hey, you’ll have to bring him around to a game sometime. Everyone’s girlfriends come to cheer us on,” Priz suggested.

“Yeah, Allura hasn’t missed a home game in two years! And, when she’s not too busy, she comes to away games too,” Shiro said.

“She’s the best team mom,” Shey nodded. “Always brings the best snacks!”

Hadn’t Lance mentioned coming to a game before? Keith chided himself for being so damn inattentive. “I mean, he’s not even my boyfriend, so that’d be weird.”

“Do you want him to be your boyfriend?” Shiro asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s first semester freshman year. Aren’t freshmen supposed to, like, branch out? Mabye I'll want to go be social, meet other people.”

He was startled by the sheer volume of laughs his comment was met with.

“Keith, buddy, we love you, but no. You’re not going to suddenly become a social butterfly, hate to break it to you,” Shiro patted his back. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Sure…”

“And your sex lives seem to be thriving,” Priz noted.

“Jesus,” Keith rubbed his face. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I’m just saying, you’re attracted to each other! And, you called him after the game, it’s already like instinctual for you to go to him. Would you say you want to spend more time with him?”

“I mean, I plan to keep having sex with him, if that’s what you’re saying.”

The team groaned. “A barbarian.”

“Truly, unrefined.”

“We’ve got our work cut out for us!”

“Someone as charming as Lance? Keith will have to step up his game before Hicker is snatched from under his nose!”

“What the hell are you on about?” Keith asked. “And the fuck is a Hicker?”

“Geez, Keith, use context clues. You’re Hickey, the receiver of hickeys, and Lance is Hicker, the giver of hickeys,” Shiro rolled his eyes. “And what we’re trying to say is, maybe ask him out sometime. On a real date.”

“This really isn’t any of your business.”

He shrugged. “Lance is a friend of Allura's, alright? And I think you two could be good for each other. I just hope you’re not… using him.”

“What? You think I would do that to him?”

“Well, if you’re only interested in him for sex…”

“No… I mean… I just wanted a tutor, Jesus, I didn’t ask for a whole relationship! Look, we’re fine, okay? And we don’t need all of your meddling to work things out, so don’t even bother.” He stood, snatching his phone from Priz’s hands. “In case you forgot, we have a game in a few hours. Maybe if you spent all the time you use gossiping actually working on rugby, we’d have a better chance!” he snapped. He stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Shit,” Shiro said. “So that didn’t go well.”

“He’s so testy,” Priz noted. “Lance must certainly have his hands full.”

“Doubt he minds it that much,” Shey cackled, nudging Priz in the arm with his elbow.

“Alright guys, Keith has a point. Maybe we should focus a bit on the upcoming game. Of course, it’d be much easier to talk about strategies if our wing hadn’t run out of the room, but, whatever,” Shiro leaned back. He listened intently as Gimli commented on mistakes he'd noted during the morning game, though his mind was drifting. He knew he’d have to talk to Keith eventually, maybe without the whole team behind him, since the boy was clearly confused about what he wanted. He also knew that letting things fester would only spell bad things, both for Keith as well as for Lance, and he truly did want what was best for them; whether or not that was a relationship… well… only time would tell, he supposed. 


	2. Try: must not be in touch

Ask anyone else, and they'd tell you the truth: Keith was avoiding Lance. Ask Keith however, and he'd tell you his truth: he was focusing on rugby.

After winning one match handily and losing just as handily in their third and final match, the team slunk back to campus. The air was tense, the angry Keith of old back with a vengeance. It was like weeks of friendship had meant nothing as he tore into his teammates during and after the game. Even the other team grew fed up with him, telling him to calm down and not take out his frustrations on his teammates, that that wasn't what a good player did.

Sure, he probably didn't _have_ to throw a punch for that comment, but they also didn't _have_ to bench him for the rest of the game! Once he’d been kicked out, he hadn't even stayed back to watch his team, preferring to retreat to the bus and attempt to cool down.

He’d wanted to call Lance, but that would only confirm what his teammates had said: that he liked him, that he wanted… something. He didn't—he _couldn't_ want anything. They were too young, and Keith was too committed to rugby. What kind of athlete would he be if he let himself get so distracted by a fling? And, even if it were to become more serious, wouldn't that prove to be even more time consuming? He couldn't have that, not when the team was already struggling as it was. The fact that he wanted to crawl to Lance’s room, fuck through his anger, and then accept his comfort... also bothered him. Maybe Shiro was right. Maybe he'd been using Lance. But, hadn't Lance been the one to start everything in the first place? He too tended to initiate things whenever they were together.

The whole thing was confusing, and the one person he'd even consider opening up to was the source of the problem. So, once they got back to campus, he simply texted Lance that he was too tired to meet up.

 _that's fine! :) get some rest. You had a long weekend, you deserve it! Sorry about your loss, but I bet you were awesome~ :D  
_ 6:16pm

Even his damn messages were nice! Keith was as far from nice as possible. It wasn't intentional of course, he didn't wake up every day thinking, "Boy I sure hope I can make everyone around me miserable". He just struggled sometimes, with the whole connecting to people thing, and he knew it. His moms had had money enough to send him to a number of therapists once he started acting up in school. He knew the labels they all liked to put on him, and he'd been taught countless times how to better handle things. Despite all that, relationships just never clicked. So, he didn't invest too much time in people, but in activities—rugby, to be specific.

He figured it would be easy to avoid Lance. They didn't have classes together, they lived on opposite sides of campus, and their only mutual friend was Shiro, who never actually hung out with Lance as far as Keith could tell. Still, he'd come back from class, from practice, or from a workout and want nothing more than to text him. Lance had attempted to start up a conversation on Monday, and Keith had ignored it. Another text came that night, then Tuesday morning; both were ignored, and Lance hadn't texted him since.

On top of the guilt and other emotions cloying around in his chest, he was simply growing physically frustrated. He wasn't allowed to play in the upcoming games due to his disciplinary issues, and practice had become a trial in and of itself with his teammates not wanting to be near him. Every day he'd return home completely fed up. He'd tried taking Lance’s initial advice, taking things into his own hand, as it were, but it only made him feel empty afterwards.

As much as he'd wanted to skip out on Saturday’s game entirely, he knew it would only make things worse for him if he did. So he showed up, carried out water bottles during the breaks after tries were scored—far too many of which were for the opposing team, if he was being honest. It was clear that they weren't going to win, but there was something different about the team that day. Everyone seemed so... happy. They laughed and joked but still anyone could see that they were playing their best as a team.

Without him.

Honestly, probably because he wasn't there.

He left the pitch with a bitter taste in his mouth. Back in his room, he cracked open a beer and turned on the TV, hoping to completely lose himself in whatever mindless drivel he could find.

Shiro came to him an hour later, freshly showered and bearing food. Keith permitted him entry, but only because he'd brought his favorite snacks. He snatched up the cookies and tore into them, reclining back in his previous position.

"So..." Shiro began. "Uh, the coaches met with the captains after the game."

"Cool."

"And we've decided that it would be alright for you to come back tomorrow."

He hummed, biting into a new cookie. "Why the change?"

"Well, the coach thought you behaved well enough on the sidelines and so wants to give you another chance."

He scoffed. "He just wants to actually win."

"Keith," his voice was stern. "You make it very hard to be on your side."

"Yeah well I didn't ask you to stick up for me. You're not my brother."

"You're right, I'm not. But I am your teammate. You're a great player Keith, everyone knows it. But you'll never make it on a professional team if you don't fix your attitude."

He shook his head. "I'm aware of my problems, thanks. Have been for years. It's not like I don't try to be a better person! It's just... I don't know how."

"You're not a bad person. You're just angry. I think with Lance you had someone who you could vent to. You had an emotional connection." He leaned forward in his seat. "Why are you avoiding him?"

"I'm not!"

"Keith..."

"Look, Lance is dumb to even want any of my time. He knows rugby is my life, I don't have time for him."

Shiro didn't say anything, only waited for Keith to find his words.

"And I mean, I've never been in a relationship. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. He's so nice, Shiro, and pretty and perfect and just... not like me in any way. I would just hold him back from finding someone so much better. Someone who doesn't want to have sex with him whenever they're angry or who wants to cry to him about their issues. What kind of relationship would that be?

"This whole time he's been doing so much for me, and I haven't done shit for him. I don't know how to accept someone’s care, first of all, and I sure as hell don't know how to reciprocate it. If I were to make him enter into this relationship where I wouldn't even know how to meet him halfway... where he'd be putting in all this work, this emotional labor, for my sake? It would kill him, Shiro. How could I do that?"

Shiro had nodded along as Keith spoke, but he stayed quiet for a few seconds before speaking. "I think you've considered a lot of things about this. A lot of possible outcomes—or, rather, a lot of details about one possible outcome. You think you'll smother him, that you'll be too hard to date?"

Keith nodded.

"But you like him. Ignore all your hang ups for a second, and tell me this: how do you feel about Lance?"

"I want him to be happy. If I could, I'd want to get to know him, all of him, to be with him. As a friend, even, would be good enough."

Shiro nodded. "Alright. And you think you'd be hard to date. Do you know that? Have you ever dated someone and had them tell you that?"

"Well no, but that'd be a bit rude—"

"So you don't know that. You also don't know how Lance is in a relationship. But, you feel as if you can talk to him, right?"

"Sure. I told him things so quickly, things I usually don't tell people till I've known them for years. He just... I felt comfortable around him. I feel comfortable with him."

"So couldn't you possibly tell him all these things that you're worried about?"

He winced. "I'm sure that wouldn't be a good way to sell myself." He shook his head. "He'd be smart to run away if I told him this stuff."

"And if he didn't?"

"Then I'd feel pretty bad for him."

"But you'd care for him, right? You'd be willing to learn how to meet him halfway? You'd listen to him and support him?"

"I mean, sure, in theory."

"Then that's a relationship. I think you guys already had something. It may be that you thought you were using him, when actually you were both getting something out of it. Did you ever ask him how he felt?"

"No, that didn't really come up. So what, relationships are just people using each other?"

"It doesn't sound so good when you put it like that, but maybe? I mean, of course you should be able to stand on your own, but it's nice to have someone to lean on when you need. Then when they need, you can support them in return. It's not a sign of weakness to need companionship, be it friendship or otherwise."

"I don't know. Where should I even start? I haven't spoken to him in a week. He probably hates me."

"Why don't you just text him? Try and talk—preferably without sex, at least not until after you figure out what you both want. Maybe you both just want something casual, cool. Maybe something serious, maybe just friendship. Whatever it is, you need to talk about it. It'd be great if you got your sounding board back. We miss Hickey."

"Not this again," he groaned.

Shiro laughed. "Okay, I guess I'm done with my spiel. Promise me you'll text him, though? It doesn't have to be tonight, but if that's what you need to not be a total dick tomorrow, then maybe that'd be good. Also, I hope with time you'll be comfortable sharing some of your struggles with me—with the rest of the team, too. You can invest some emotions in people outside of the bedroom, you know. I know I'm not your brother, but I have been told that I have some dad-like qualities, if that's what you'd prefer.” He flushed. “Not like in a kinky way, though!"

"Gross. Okay, I'll talk to him. I promise."

Shiro stood and gave an awkward salute. "Alright, good luck! Remember, no sex till you talk, and be honest with your feelings!"

"Sure thing, dad," he chuckled, rolling his eyes. Rather than being embarrassed, Shiro seemed to puff up at the name.

After finishing his second beer as well as his second row of cookies, Keith took out his phone. He knew it wouldn’t be smart to allow himself too much time to dwell on his message, so he opened their conversation and typed out a quick, neutral greeting before hitting send. He tossed his phone aside and stood to get another beer; talking about emotions wasn’t something for sober Keith, that was for sure.

By the time he returned to his seat less than a minute later, Lance hadn’t responded. He sighed. It _was_ a Saturday night. Lance could be out with his friends, with people who didn’t treat him like shit… maybe he was studying… or eating, or asleep. Who knows, he could even be with another person who’d caught his fancy.

That thought made Keith’s hand clench around his can, and he willed himself to calm down. He had literally no right to be jealous, he knew, especially since he’d been not-so-subtly attempting to ghost Lance for a week.

He double checked his message. He didn’t think it was weird, or too forward. Of course, the timing probably implied that Keith wasn’t interested in a conversation but simply a hook-up, which of course was not the case. Given their previous habits, however, he wouldn’t be surprised if Lance interpreted his innocuous. “Hey, how are you?” as a more polite version of a “u up?” kind of text.

As he was scrolling through old messages, lamenting the damage he’d caused, the signature “…” of Lance replying appeared. He waited, holding his breath in anticipation.

 _Hey Keith! Sup? I’m a little lit, haha!  
_ 11:15pm

 **Haha, where are you? I’m just watching TV.  
** 11:15pm

 _Uhhhhh  
_ 11:15pm

 _I have no fucking clue, LMAO  
_ 11:15pm

 _I think it’s like… some swimmer dude’s house party??  
_ 11:15pm

 _All I know is that everyone is shirtless and it’s super sweaty LOL  
_ 11:15pm

Smiling, Keith shook his head.

 **I hope you’re with some responsible people**  
11:16pm

 _I am!  
_ 11:16pm

 _Well I was….  
_ 11:16pm

 _Hunk’s talking to this girl he likes, I think. Oh, duh, she’s on the swim team. That’s how we got here…_  
11:16pm

 _I been drankin  
_ 11:16pm

 **Huh?  
** 11:16pm

 _WAteermelonnnn!!!  
_ 11:16pm

 _And alcohol LOLZ  
_ 11:17pm

 **Watermelon? What does that mean?  
** 11:17pm

 _You’re literally from Houston and you dk beyonce lyrics???????????????  
_ 11:18pm

 _For shame, mullet, for shame_  
11:18pm

He laughed. He was about to type out an invitation for Lance to get lunch with him the next day, but a new message stopped him.

 _I’m super bored, though. All they have here is beer :( I HATE BEER SO MUCH. WEAK ASS ALC WITH A SHITTY TASTE D: <  
_11:19pm

 _You’re just in your room? want some company?  
_ 11:19pm

Well, that was convenient, Keith thought.

 **Sure. I’m in Morrison, room 211.  
** 11:20pm

 _Ooh, spooky haunted dorm, you say? Known for all the single rooms? ;)  
_ 11:20pm

Oh, shit. Lance was going to seduce him, wasn’t he? Keith wasn’t ashamed to confess that he was easily swayed by Lance’s pretty face. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. At the same time, he couldn’t turn around and tell Lance “never mind”—how shitty would that be?

 **I have to warn you, I only have beer too. Super shitty stuff, bottom shelf.**  
11:21pm

 _D:  
_ 11:21pm

 _D’’’:  
_ 11:21pm

 _Ugh the things I do fo ru, dirnking shit beer and hiking to haunted buildings on the far side of campus  
_ 11:21pm

Maybe that was his out? Keith thought.

 **If it’s too far, we can just hang out tomorrow, after my game**  
11:22pm

 _Noooo nope nah, no getting rid of me that easily Kogayne  
_ 11:22pm

 _HA GAY HAS ANYONE EVER DONE THAT BEFORE  
_ 11:22pm

 _PROBS COUNTLESS TIMES LOLZ. Esp with ur two lesbian moms_  
11:22pm

 _Guess I’m not original  
_ 11:23pm

 _Oh, I saw a funny video about monkeys the other day! I’ll tell you all about it when I’m at ur place.  
_ 11:23pm

 _Pero my phone’s kinda dying so imma have to conserv the battery for uber purposes Ciao :*  
_ 11:23pm

 **Alright, see you soon.  
** 11:23pm

 **:-)  
** 11:24pm

Was the smiley face too much? It probably was. Keith was not an emoji kind of guy. And why’d he put a nose? How old was he, forty? Mom 2, the one who claimed to have more game, would be quite disappointed in him.

While he waited, he finished his beer. After debating the merits of getting another drink, he decided to switch to water—he had a game, after all, and if Lance was drunk, it would probably be preferred if at least one of them had their wits about them.

A new episode of the wedding show he was watching had just begun when a knock on the door cut sharply through the room. Swallowing thickly, he stood and wiped his already sweating palms. Who had made him such a mess, and why were they so cruel? After taking a few deep breaths, he opened the door, revealing Lance, who was poised to knock again.

“Hey,” he said, grinning. “Come here often?” he raised his brows suggestively.

“I live here,” Keith said, moving to the side so Lance could enter.

“Do you?” he regarded the room. “It’s a dump.”

Keith flushed—maybe he should’ve tidied up a bit. “It’s not that bad.”

“Smells like boy.”

“Well I’m a boy, so that makes sense.”

Lance shifted a pile of clean clothes from the couch to the floor, completely throwing off Keith’s laundry organization system. “It’s very you. Too busy playing rugby to clean, I suppose.”

“Precisely.”

“Too busy to text back, too,” he eyed Keith sharply. Keith turned from his harsh look.

“Do you want some beer? Or water?” he gestured toward his small end table, where half a package of cookies remained. “Or some cookies?”

“I’ll have a water, thanks. Also those cookies are trash.”

Keith gasped. “You take that back!”

“Never.”

He shook his head. “Those cookies are the single greatest human invention in… in ever! Not to be, like, dramatic or anything.”

“Of course,” Lance chuckled. “No cookies compare to my mom’s, so I’ll admit to being a bit biased.”

“My moms can’t cook,” Keith said as he filled a solo cup with water from his sink.

“Rich boy grew up on processed food? How middle class of you,” Lance mused. Keith returned to the couch, passing him his water before sitting on the opposite end. “Thanks,” he smiled.

It was now or never, Keith thought. He turned to face Lance. “Look, I’m sorry for not texting back. I know it was kinda shitty. No, super shitty. It’s just… I’m kind of confused? About what I want. What we are, and all that jazz.”

“Classic,” Lance nodded. “And it’s okay. I realize I may have come on a bit strong. I mean, we were just hooking up, and I kept inviting you to meals, wanted to watch your games and stuff, study with you… so it’s fine that you want something more casual. We can be, like, weekend-only friends, if you want.”

“Wait, what?”

“You know, like, maybe we only text when one of us wants to hookup?”

“No, I mean… when did you invite me to those things?”

“Really?” Lance blinked. “I mean… I brought it up a few times. You didn’t seem interested, but I kept pushing. That’s on me, I guess.”

“I really don’t remember that happening,” he confessed.

“Well, then that’s just as well. Let’s pretend I didn’t embarrass myself.”

“You wanted to hang out with me?”

“Well, yeah. You’re grating and super off-putting, but for some reason I’ve come to like your company. We had some fun conversations, you know? I mean, you called me, and I thought that maybe we were friends, at the least.”

“Oh.”

Lance rubbed his neck. “Has anyone told you you’re kinda awkward?”

“Yeah. Often.”

“Well, it’s true. But, it’s not all that bad. I’m awkward too.”

“You? Please, you’re a social butterfly. I wish I could be as easygoing as you!” Keith said. “I spend hours every day with thirty guys and I doubt any of them would consider us friends. All I do is push, push, push. It’s no wonder people don’t wanna be around me—I don’t blame them. I wish I didn’t have to be around me, most of the time.”

“What do you mean? Your team loves you, I’m sure,” Lance said, scooting to the middle of the couch. He placed a comforting hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Shiro raves about you, whoever runs the team’s social media page may be in love with you. I have some of your teammates in my classes, and all they want is to help you get to Nationals. They love you, man.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” he shrugged. “Yes, tragically, you cannot add this to your angsty backstory. You have friends, Keith. People like you.”

“But, why?” he asked. “I’m not trying to, like, fish for compliments. I’m genuinely confused.”

“It’s defs not the hair,” Lance laughed at Keith’s glare. “I dunno, it’s hard to describe. You’re intense. Passionate. Focused. It’s kinda cool, I guess? How no matter what happens, you march onward to this singular goal. Meanwhile so many of us are just kinda floundering around, too scared of each choice we make, that it might limit us in some way, that we’ll lose out on maximizing our potential. It’s enviable, how stalwart you are.”

Keith smiled. “Fancy words for a drunkard.”

“I’m not even that drunk! My Uber driver had water, and I may have chugged like two bottles already—I had to find a bush seconds after I left the car,” he laughed.

“I… I never really thought people were looking at me for that kind of thing. I’m a mess.”

“A mess that people want to be more like, though,” Lance said.

“They shouldn’t. Look where it’s gotten me.”

“What, into a premiere institution, playing the sport you love, leading a program to levels of notoriety heretofore unknown?”

“Okay, that’s a bit extreme—“

"Its impressive what you've done, Keith, what you've built for yourself. And anyone can see that you only have even greater things coming your way," he smiled, soft.

"But how is that a good thing?" He snapped. "I avoided you because of it! I refuse to make friends because of it! All I do is run toward this one, far off dream I had, not caring about anyone who I think gets in my way, be it opponents, teammates, or even... even someone like you." He looked at Lance. "What's the point of doing all of this, then? If when I get to the end, I'll be all alone, just like I've always been?"

"But you're not alone, people--"

"Like me, support me, yeah I heard you." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, I don't understand why I'm so bad at this!"

"At what?"

"I don't know! Talking. Life. You."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," he sighed. "All my life I've had this thing. And I was committed to it. I never thought about others, how I could hurt them, how I might affect them. I didn't think I would ever be the type to influence people. But now I've been thinking more, and I don't know if I like what I've become. Rugby is an outlet for my negative emotions, but if my negative feelings are about rugby, then what? Then I end up... using you, and that's not what you deserve. You're just... so you. And I'm so me, and we? I don't see how it could work."

"Keith," Lance said, shaking Keith's shoulder slightly. "First of all, shut up with all this guilt. You didn't use me in any way!"

"How can you say that?"

"Well as much as I believe myself to be quite the temptress—er, tempter? Whatever—it's not as if that's the only thing you see in me, right?"

"Of course it's not!"

"I mean, we’re both attracted to each other, we want to be together in that way. It's natural," his hand slid down Keith's arm, lightly resting over clenched fist. "As a wise man once said, ‘I don’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind’."

Keith couldn't help it. Despite the rather previously serious topic of conversation, he burst into laughter. "You can't be seriously quoting R. Kelly right now."

"Oh so you know R. Kelly lyrics, but not Beyoncé?" He asked, baffled.

"Shut up," he said, smiling as he leaned forward to capture Lance’s lips in a kiss.

Lance shifted closer on the futon, pressing against Keith's lips fervently. He was loud, making all manner of appreciative sounds that only urged Keith to pull him tighter, to kiss him harder.

They didn’t get a lot of talking done that night, admittedly, not nearly as much as Shiro had recommended. They’d only started touching on their communication issues, before they resolved things in a way that made more sense to Keith, if he was being honest. Kissing Lance, touching him, fucking him… that was a way he could communicate. There was no confusion there, no room for it between them, even. He could see the hunger, the attraction, in Lance’s eyes, in the words he cried out: he wanted Keith, and Keith wanted him. What, then, did anyone else’s opinion matter? Why even worry about labels and judgment when they were both so caught up in each other? he reasoned.

As they settled in for bed, both sufficiently weary from the previous hour of activity, Lance snuggled up against Keith’s chest, murmuring about his muscles being too hard to be comfortable.

Keith chuckled. “If I remember correctly, you like my muscles. You like that I could ‘throw you around like a ragdoll’, or am I misquoting you?”

“No wonder your hair’s so big, it must contain your ego,” Lance stuck his tongue out. “It was in the heat of the moment, don’t put too much stock in it.”

“Fine, fine.”

“You have a game tomorrow morning, don’t you? I could head out if it’s better for you to sleep alone,” he shifted toward the edge of the bed.

Sighing, Keith tightened his hold. “Don’t be stupid. I want you to stay.”

Lance’s smile was bright. “Really? Cool.”

“I have to get up a bit early, though, to get breakfast with the team. You can come of course, just know that they are going to be super fucking annoying the whole time you’re there.”

“Sounds like your average, run-of-the-mill family to me.” He shifted, reaching for his phone he’d stuck under a pillow. “Speaking of hectic, I have this funny video to show you!”

“Oh yeah. The monkey one?”

“Yup,” he replied. He unlocked his phone, squinting at the too-bright screen for a few seconds as he pulled up a browser. “It just popped up on twitter and it reminded me of you, since you’re an anthro nerd.” He propped up his phone so they could both watch the short video. The subject: thieving monkeys who held tourist’s items for ransom in exchange for food.

“Cute, huh?” Lance asked at the end.

“Monkeys are cool,” Keith nodded.

“You gotta hear my joke, though! Hunk was dying, Pidge… well, she was just annoyed, but that’s not so unusual!” He cleared his throat. “Even though they’re monkeys, one could say they’re engaging in some ‘guerilla’ tactics.” He raised his eyebrows, nudging Keith’s side with a bony digit. “Get it?”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, body instinctively retreating from the tickling sensation.

“’Cause ‘guerilla’ sounds a lot like ‘gorilla’, another type of primate.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Funny, huh?”

“Hilarious,” he replied.

Lance nodded. “I’m glad you have a winning sense of humor. I’ve got jokes for days, you know. It wouldn’t bode well for us if you didn’t find me funny.”

Ah, “us”, Keith thought. They really should define that sometime, shouldn’t they? He was too tired to dwell, however, so he only mumbled something about sleep, prompting Lance to quiet down.

“Goodnight,” Keith said.

“Sleep tight,” Lance smiled, pressing a small kiss to Keith’s jaw.

They were asleep in minutes.

 

* * *

 

It felt like they’d just fallen asleep when Keith’s alarm went off, startling both of them. Lance’s arms flailed out wildly, bopping Keith in the nose.

“Ow!” he whined. “What the fuck?”

“Ah, sorry!” Lance said, pulling back. His legs were tangled up with Keith’s, however, which made the maneuver a bit more difficult to manage.

Keith silenced his phone and sat up—slowly so as not to bump Lance off the bed. “These beds suck.”

“They’re pretty small,” Lance agreed.

“We should probably shower.”

“Gross, in the communal showers?”

“No, I have my own bathroom.”

“Wait, seriously? You didn’t think to mention this last night?”

Keith gestured toward a closed door. “We were busy. It’s there.”

“Damn, how’d you get such a nice room as a freshman? I also thought Morrison was, like, upperclassmen only.”

“It is. I requested a single, and my mom may have called the Office of Housing.”

“Bougie.”

He sighed. He was never one to flaunt his wealth, though he knew it gave him a lot more advantages than the average student. “Yeah, it’s nice not having to live with somebody. It also helped that I had a number of, uh, doctor’s notes recommending that I live alone.”

“Yeah, no offense, but I’m not sure a stranger roommate would’ve been the right call for you,” he chuckled. “Well, this works nicely. Now we can hang out here instead of bothering Hunk.

“Sure. Now come on, let’s clean up quickly. I wanna beat the others there before they hog the omelet station.”

“Ooh! You’ve gotta let me make your omelet! I’m the best!”

“Fine, fine,” Keith pushed his shoulder, urging him from the bed. Lance was still quite naked, though he didn’t seem embarrassed by it, taking his sweet time crossing the room to the shower.

They hardly had time to fool around, yet Keith wasn’t actively going to refuse any of Lance’s handsy advances. Their quick shower was made all the less quick as a result, so they were among the last to show up for breakfast.

Since it was a Sunday morning, the dining hall was nearly empty. He heard his teammates before he saw them, the group always good at creating a ruckus when together. Keith ushered Lance toward the food first, watching as Lance made an admittedly good-looking omelet for him. Once Lance prepared himself a waffle, topped with frozen yogurt, chocolate sauce, and fruit—Keith couldn’t tell if he was impressed by his ingenuity or simply disgusted—they made their way to the group.

Shiro spotted them first, and he smiled. He nudged Allura, who brightened on seeing Lance.

“Good morning, Lance!” she said. “A bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” he laughed. Keith sat across from Shiro, and Lance settled next to him—had the team saved them seats? Talk about embarrassing.

“So this is the legendary Lance,” Gimli exclaimed. “Nice to meet you, Hicker!”

“Huh?” Lance frowned.

“I don’t know…” Priz began. “Looks more like Hickey might actually be Hicker.”

Lance blushed, sinking into his collar. Keith only smirked.

Shiro chuckled. “Eat up quick, Keith. You’ll be joining a few of us for a quick meeting with the coaches.”

He bit into his omelet—damn, it was good. “Alright.”

“Good, gives us a chance to get to know him better,” Shey cheered from Lance’s other side.

Keith eyed Lance with worry—he certainly didn’t want that to happen. They’d eat him alive.

“Don’t worry,” Allura said. “I’ll look after him. We have some banners to hang, after all.”

“Ooh, nice!” Lance grinned. “I need to learn all the cheers, too!”

“Cheers?” Keith scoffed. “We don’t have those.”

“Why not?” he pouted. “There go all my face-painting, uniform-wearing, super spirited plans.”

Why was his face so perfect? Even his frowns were pretty! It wasn’t fair. “If you want to make up a cheer, you can,” Keith suggested. “Or, whatever.”

He immediately perked up. “Well, it’ll take some time, of course. Puns and chants are an art form, you know. Plus, I don’t actually own any GU affiliated spirit gear, or paint. I have makeup, but that probably wouldn’t work,” he mused. “Next time, then, the fan section will be lit! For today, though, my slightly hungover self will just watch. And hopefully learn the rules.”

“I’ll be happy to coach you,” Allura said. “You’ll pick up on it quickly, I’m sure.”

“Sounds great. Think you guys will win, Keith?”

He shrugged. “We lost to them yesterday. But, I think it’s possible. They were shit at covering their right flank—looked like the wing was timid, probably recovering from an injury, if I had to guess. If we can capitalize on their weaknesses, I bet we could sneak in a few tries before they have time to adjust.”

“Plus we’ve got our secret weapon today,” Gimli nodded, proud. “We’re all pumped to have you back, Keith.” The team nodded along.

“Oh, thanks,” he blushed. “Sorry about… last week. I was a dick.”

“You sure as hell were,” Shiro agreed. “But it’s fine. We all get stressed sometimes. So long as you work through it in a healthy way and don’t take it out on your teammates from now on—or on anyone else, for that matter,” he said, gaze flicking to Lance’s face. He remained oblivious, too busy stuffing his face with his soggy, chocolate-covered waffle.

“Got it,” Keith said. “It won’t happen again.”

 

* * *

 

The cheering section at GU rugby matches was usually small. Only a few of the players’ close friends or girlfriends ever came, and for early morning games, even fewer made the trek to the stadium. Allura was a regular, and, Lance was surprised to note, so was Professor Smythe, or Coran, as he called him.

People trickled in closer to game time, but the trio were there during the warm-up period. Allura and Coran were attempting to give Lance a basic working knowledge of the sport and its rules, and he seemed to keep up well enough. By the time the game started, Lance felt confident that he would understand what was going on.

He did not. He also tended to panic whenever someone was tackled, especially when that person was Keith. Even after going down, they’d just pass the ball off to another teammate, who would run a bit before they too were tackled. The whole flow was confusing to him, though he did like the non-stop nature of it. The pace reminded him vaguely of soccer, and it wasn’t at all like football, which he appreciated. He’d never been a fan of the popular American sport—why the hell should it take four hours to play through sixty minutes? There were too many pauses and breaks in football, in his opinion.

The game would stop in the cases of penalties, which he also didn’t get. Allura explained that higher level games would be even faster, as they wouldn’t violate nearly as many rules. It was often GU who committed the infractions, sheepish freshman usually the culprit.

Overall, the team was playing well, better even than the day before with the addition of Keith. He’d gotten a bit of a scolding from his coaches in their pre-game meeting, as well as a stern warning to not blow up at anyone.

Keith was rather calm, through it all. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was his teammates not hating him for his attitude, maybe it was the fact that he was finally back in a real game, maybe it was all of those things. Prior to kick-off, he chanced a look to the empty bleachers. Lance was holding up a hastily-made sign, “Go Keith!” written in their school colors. He’d even managed to paint Keith’s number on his cheek. He smiled, his heart thrumming happily in his chest as he refocused on the game.

The fact that Lance was there was always in the back of his mind, but he didn’t feel nervous. There was no breaking his concentration, his senses were too tuned into his teammates and the opponents. Play after play, the cheers of various fans were secondary in importance, and he hardly remembered them.

It was a tough match that went down to the wire, but GU managed to pull away with a narrow victory, much to everyone’s surprise. Keith was plenty used to being tackled, still he was caught off guard when his own teammate brought him to the ground after the final whistle. Gimli was a bit shorter and hardly known for his prowess in tackling, but the scrumhalf still manage to make Keith crumble.

“What the hell?” Keith asked.

“We won!” Gimli cheered. Others joined the pile seconds later, all seeming intent on crushing Keith.

“You guys!” he whined. “Why am I at the bottom?”

“You got the most tries, it’s only fair,” Shiro noted, his face somewhere near Keith’s arm. He fought the urge to punch his nose.

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I totally does!” Priz insisted. “This is love, Keith, affection. Washing over you in the form of our sweaty bodies.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to be underneath so many sweaty men. Not this way.”

They laughed.

“Alright, that’s enough love for one day,” Shiro said. “We have to shake hands with the other team.”

“And get some pizza,” Keith reminded them, his stomach finally announcing that it was in desperate need of some nutrition. He’d only been able to eat about half of his omelet, and with all the exercise, he was understandably starving.

With a few grunts and groans, they depiled, rolling off of each other with little regard for grace. Keith was at last unhindered, and Shiro offered him a hand in getting up. They cheerily proceeded toward their former enemies, who were more than happy to join them for some pizza.

After about three cheesy, meat-filled slices, Keith decided he should maybe talk to someone instead of trying to imitate a ravenous wolf. His eyes sought out Shiro, who had his arm slung around Allura as they talked with Lance. He joined the group with a small wave.

“Dude, you were so awesome!” Lance said. “I already complimented Shiro, like, a billion times, FYI, so now it’s your turn. First of all, holy shit! Rugby is so scary! Are you hurt? You got tackled, like, eight thousand times, give or take!”

He chuckled. “I’m fine. Just hungry. Well, not anymore, I guess.”

“And you’re so fast! Like a much shorter version of… uh… someone fast, I’m not really into sports. Oh! Like a less car-like Lightning McQueen!” he chirped.

“Really? Couldn’t think of one human athlete?” he teased.

“The only athlete I care about is Serena Williams, and while she’s admittedly queen of the world, I don’t actually know how her tennis prowess translates to extended bouts of running,” he replied. “Like, yeah, she’s got explosive power, but could she maintain that for the whole length of a field?” He looked off and to the side, as if he was truly pondering the question. Keith didn’t want to break his concentration so he didn’t say anything. Eventually, Lance returned to them. “Oh, I need to go to the mall today. Mind if I take a picture of your neck?”

Keith balked. Was he hallucinating? “Huh?”

“Your neck. I need a picture of it.”

“Why the hell would you need that?”

“None of your business!”

“It’s my neck! It’s all my business!”

“Maybe I was gonna buy you something!”

“What the hell would you buy me requiring a picture of my neck?”

“Ugh, this is what I get for being nice,” he pouted. “Here I was gonna buy you some top-of-the-line, hard-to-come-by Fenty foundation, perfectly matched to your sweaty little neck.”

“Ooh, Fenty is fantastic!” Allura said. “First makeup I’ve ever used that matches my skin.”

“Right?” Lance turned to her, gushing. “It’s the best. Rihanna is a godsend—nay, a goddess herself. Nothing but respect for _my_ president!” He focused back on Keith. “Hate to break it to you, mullet, but during the weekdays, I’m not trying to show off these bruises during office hours. I have my own flawlessly matched foundation to cover up these bad boys, but I know you don’t—I was in your bathroom, Keith, I saw things I didn’t want to see!”

“What kind of things?” Shiro asked.

“The man uses an all-in-one soap: conditioner, shampoo, body wash, and face wash!” he clutched his hand over his heart. “It’s a miracle the man’s face looks the way it does. Hell, even as he scarfs down a whole box of greasy pizza, it remains smooth as marble. It’s unfair! Using the stuff one time was an affront to my Clinique skincare kit. Money truly is wasted on the rich.”

He glared at Lance. “I’m not going to wear makeup. That’s weird.”

“Is your masculinity so fragile?”

“Of course not. In fact, guys in Korea wear makeup all the time. I just think it’s a waste of time. I don’t have patience for it. Plus I work out every day and would just sweat it off.”

“Fine, fine. I’m sure you’ll change your mind with time, though. Lancey Lance is always right, you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. How do you plan to get to the mall, anyway?”

“Pidge’s brother is gonna drive us! If you want, you could come. It’d be a lot easier to match your skin if you were actually there.”

An invitation? Meeting his friends? Oh god, Keith had already introduced Lance to the only people he was remotely close to. What did this mean? Were they dating? Why didn’t he take Shiro’s advice? Damn Lance and his lips!

Shiro seemed to notice Keith’s discomfort. “Actually, Keith already has a standing appointment: as ass-whooping courtesy of myself in Mario Party.”

Keith nodded. “Oh, yeah. I totally forgot about that,” he lied.

Lance laughed. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from showing Keith a thing or two. Hopefully you won’t spend all day playing games.”

“We won’t. We’ll probably also have some beer and order pizza,” Shiro said.

“I thought we were studying together,” Allura pouted.

“Sorry, babe, it’s bro time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, just don’t forget about your quiz due at midnight, or your Chinese homework.”

“Oh, shit, thanks!” he smiled. “I’ll get them done, don’t worry.”

“Wanna study together then, Allura? Once I’m back from the mall?” Lance asked.

“Sure! Just text me when you’re back. This works well, you can quiz me for my Spanish exam.”

“I’d be delighted to, princesa.” He turned to Keith. “And you: you’ve got that huge problem set from Coran due Wednesday which I know you haven’t started.”

“Why would I? It’s only Sunday.”

“I’d recommend you get started on it tonight—it’s actually super long. Or else you’ll be pulling an all-nighter Tuesday.”

“But I don’t wanna…” he whined.

“Sorry, mullet. If I were grading them, I’d totally be academically dishonest for you, but I’m just a tutor, not a TA.”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he mumbled. “Can’t even get me an A.”

Lance preened at the praise. “We’ll get you that A, don’t you worry. It’ll just be done legitimately. Well, thanks for letting me come to your game—it was super fun! I should head back, change out of these going-out clothes that smell like Kamchatka a little bit—this has been a rather extended walk of shame.” He stepped away from the group, waving happily. “I’ll see you later, Keith.”

“Yeah, see you.” Keith said. Shiro elbowed him sharply. “Ow!” he glared. Shiro looked at Lance then back to Keith. “Um… thanks for coming to the game?” Shiro nodded, though his eyes seemed to be trying to communicate more. “It was good to see you? Uh… I’ll text you.”

Lance laughed easily. “Don’t hurt yourself there, Keith.” He nodded toward Shiro and Allura. “Catch y’all cats on the flip side.” He turned, heading toward the stadium’s exit without another look back.

Once he was out of earshot, Shiro groaned. “You’re so bad at being nice!”

“I’m sorry!” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t know what’s normal!”

“You should’ve walked him back to his dorm! Or, like, kissed him goodbye!”

“So are you guys dating?” Allura asked.

“Uh… I don’t think so?”

Shiro frowned. “You didn’t DTR? What the hell, Keith?”

“Look, I tried! We talked for, like, five minutes. But then…”

“I’m surprised you lasted even five minutes. Your thirst is impressive,” Allura said.

“Oh my god…” he flushed. “Stop…”

Shiro sighed. “You kids will be the death of me. Well, at least you’re friendly again. That’s a start.”

“Oh, you guys have a bye next weekend, right?” Allura asked. “You should have a day date! Ooh, he’s been trying to go to the farmer’s market forever. There’s also an amazing Cuban restaurant that I’m sure he’d love to try.”

“A whole day?” Keith said. “That’s so much more time for me to mess everything up!”

“Show off your man in broad daylight, Keith. Bitches love when you hang out with them for more than just sex,” Shiro said.

“That’s very true!” Allura smiled.

“I thought we were all getting shit-faced before the football game this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s right! Well, you could invite Lance,” Shiro said.

“That would be a terrible date.”

“Oh, so now you’re the relationship expert?” Shiro raised a brow. “It’s not like every time you meet up it has to be some big, official, date thing. You can just, you know, chill. Study together. Drink. Go to the dining hall.”

“Fuck like the honeymooning couple you are,” Allura added.

“In the dining hall?”

“Hey, it’s doable,” she insisted. “If you go downstairs to the old bathrooms, there’s a few supply closets that I’m sure could be used.”

Shiro laughed. “Speaking from experience?”

“Of course, you know me, the resident slut of the dining hall. What can I say? Seeing all my classmates stress-eating low-quality pre-packaged food really gets me going.”

“LMAO, nice,” Shiro shook his head.

“Did you just say ‘LMAO’ instead of actually laughing?” Keith asked. “Why are you like this? Why are we friends? Allura, what do you see in this man?”

“A partner who’d be willing to makeout with me in a dining hall basement closet.”

“No way, that’d be unsanitary,” he said.

“What?” she whined. “Shiro, I want a divorce.”

“Alright, we’ll call the lawyers later.”

“Do you even care about the children?” she sounded offended.

“We’ve already established that I’m keeping Ramon and you’ll get Frederick.”

“You always spoiled Ramon. Well, I hope I get visiting rights.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Keith asked.

“We have two beautiful fish-babies!” Allura said. “I keep them in my apartment since I’m better at taking care of them.”

“I provide for them in other ways!” Shiro insisted.

“Of course, you’re a wonderful father.”

Keith smiled at their antics. He didn’t know Allura all that well, but he liked her. He liked that she liked Shiro, that she made him happy. Seeing them together… well, everyone could tell that they were made for each other. Everything with them just seemed so right, from the way they talked, the way they looked at each other, the way they leaned into each other or held hands. It was natural, easy. Effortless.

Was that what most couples looked like? The good ones, at least? Like two perfect little puzzle pieces coming together, and then everyone immediately knows that that’s how things were meant to be, that it couldn’t have happened any other way? How could anything be so simple? In Keith’s experience, things rarely worked out so well. He knew of course relationships took work, that it wasn’t all cute and fun 24/7, but for him, he didn’t even know what kind of work it required. Would he ever come to a similar degree of comfort with one person? Be so committed to them and their happiness? The thought spooked him more than he cared to admit.

Still, he did try with Lance during the week. They’d texted, met up a few times for dinner and to study together. Keith finally met Lance’s roommate, Hunk, and their friend, Pidge. They’d immediately tried to integrate him into their friend group, but he didn’t feel ready for that step, not yet. He and Lance were still not defining what they were, and throwing in these extra friends into the mix surely wouldn’t help the situation.

Keith was content with the whole arrangement, honestly. He got his calculus help, had a regular person he could vent to, and as expected, he and Lance were still very much physically attracted to each other. As far as he was aware, Lance wasn’t seeing anyone, and of course Keith wasn’t, so to outsiders, it could probably be said that they were “dating”, or “talking”, or whatever. Still, they never referred to each other as boyfriends, and their dates were more just them hanging out around campus or in Keith’s room; it depended on who you asked, then, how they were described. Lance would just shrug when Hunk or Pidge called Keith his boyfriend, laughing and changing the subject. Keith usually would outright say “he’s not my boyfriend,” though he’d said that around Lance one time and had upset him profusely—though he couldn’t understand just why Lance would get mad at him for that, since Lance didn’t use the term; still, he tried not to say that around Lance from then on.

A few weeks after they entered into their tenuous relationship, Lance had finally convinced Keith to get a bit more involved with the LGBT+ community on campus. He’d apparently gone to all the meetings for the QSA on campus, and had a number of friends that he would go out with or study with.

“I didn’t know you were so popular,” Keith noted, removing his hand from Lance’s as they left his room. He preferred that they keep their affectionate displays more private.

“Of course,” he smiled. “There’s a lot of super cool freshman there, too! That’s how Hunk and I met Pidge, then afterwards those two found out they had Intro to Engineering together. There’s apparently a gay party this weekend, too! We should go!”

“Another party? We went out last weekend.”

“Keith, buddy, it’s college! You’re supposed to go out, like, all the time!” he laughed. “You didn’t even drink last week. We just came back and fucked.”

“Well, we set foot in a party, didn’t we? That’s going out.”

“You didn’t even dance!”

“I don’t dance.”

Lance sighed. “What will I do with you when a Latino party comes up?”

“There are Latino parties?”

“That’s right! Most of the minority groups have parties. They’re loads more fun than, like, the white people sports parties. Better music, better liquor, and they last much later!”

“That sounds horrible.”

“You are the worst. The whitest, straightest guy I’ve ever met, truly.”

He pouted. “I can tell that’s an insult.”

“At least you’re smart,” he teased. “And moderately cute.”

“Thank you,” he nodded. “I work hard to remain average looking.”

Lance chuckled. “You were never in GSA stuff in high school, were you?”

He shook his head. “No. But, I mean, I knew I was gay. Plus I had plenty of support at home, of course. And my team was super chill. I went to one meeting, but… I don’t know. I felt kinda out of place? Like everyone was so close already, they were into the same kind of things, dating and drinking and stuff. I didn’t have time for that, and I didn’t want to pretend to be a certain way to make friends.”

“Maybe your group was just too small, at your cutesy little private school. Here, there’s a refreshing amount of diversity among the queer students. You’ll find a similarly broody, masc, sports bro to bond with, I’m sure.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why would I bother? I’ve got you, don’t I?”

Lance flushed, looking away. Keith snapped his mouth shut—he hadn’t meant that to sound so… tender.

“Sorry, I just mean…”

“It’s fine,” Lance said hastily. “Don’t worry about it.”

For the rest of their short walk to the student center, they were quiet. Once Lance passed into the large conference room the club was meeting in, his usual, perky self was out on display.

“Hey Lance!” a pretty blonde, Nyma, that Keith recognized from the women’s rugby team waved Lance over. They’d met her when the teams had held a party together, and she’d been immediately taken with Lance. Shiro had drawn Keith away from Lance for a few minutes to have some drinks with the guys, and when he’d returned, the two seemed thick as thieves. He didn’t like just how close they looked, or how good they looked together. Before things could get too serious, he’d walked over to Lance, staking his claim for the night with a sloppy kiss. Lance had been surprised, of course, with the public display, but he hadn’t minded. They stuck together for the rest of the night, though Lance was still his social self, making friends with plenty of the girls as well as the guys. Keith had been seething with jealousy all night, though he was satisfied that it was him who got to take Lance home later than night, in the end.

“What’s up, Nyma?” Lance practically skipped to her side, taking a seat in an open chair next to her. Keith sat on Lance’s other side.

“Not much. Hi, Keith, how are you?” she smiled.

“Fine, thanks.”

“I hear you guys kicked ass this weekend!” Lance said to her. “Congrats on another win!”

“Thanks! It was a good effort, over all. Things are really coming together for us.”

“Awesome! Did you check out that restaurant Hunk mentioned?”

“Yeah, a group of us ended up eating there before the drive back. It was so good! Tell Hunk thanks for the recommendation.”

“Will do,” he said.

Why was it so easy for other people to be so casual with Lance so quickly? It made Keith feel… like he wasn’t special at all. Like Lance would be just the same, nice guy to anyone he met. Nyma had known him for only a couple weeks, and yet apparently she hung out with him and his friends more often than Keith. Of course, it would be fair to say that he didn’t make the best effort at integrating himself in every part of Lance’s life like an actual boyfriend—or even just a friend—would. He was bothered by his own mentality, but likewise he wasn’t planning on changing it. He only made these kinds of comparisons when he wasn’t by himself with Lance, so the solution, he reasoned, was simply to only ever be alone with Lance. He preferred it that way.

The pair chatted during the few minutes before the meeting started, complaining about class and the latest episode of a show they apparently both watched. Keith had clenched his teeth when Lance suggested that they both watch the next episode together—irrational, as Lance had invited him similarly days before, but he’d declined the invitation.

“Sounds like fun,” she said. “Oh, also. What are you doing Friday?”

“Nothing, as of right now. The party’s Saturday, right?”

She nodded. “Yup. Well, I was wondering… My sorority is having a dance on Friday. Would you like to come with me?”

Lance shot a quick glance toward Keith, his look conflicted. Keith turned his head, wishing that he wasn’t even there. Lance cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure!”

She beamed. “Awesome, then it’s a date!”

 

* * *

 

Lance texted Keith a few times during the week, but he didn’t respond with more than a few, conversation-killing words. Even come Friday, when Lance texted him to meet up after the dance, Keith simply said he was too tired. Truth was, he was moping.

Even the next day during his game, he could barely focus. His team was confused at his sudden change of demeanor, as he wasn’t even yelling angrily. He exuded an air of absolute misery.

He skipped the pizza after the win, giving the excuse that he had a lot of homework to work on. Shiro caught up to him easily, his shuffling slower than his usual, fast-paced gait.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I got three tries. We won.”

“You know that’s not what I mean…” he began.

Keith turned, looking behind Shiro. “Where’s Allura?”

“She couldn’t make it today.”

“She never misses a home game.”

“It’s Lance.”

He whirled. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just, you know, crying his eyes out ‘cause he thinks you hate him.”

He frowned. “I don’t hate him.”

“You are shit at communicating.”

“That’s fair.”

“Why are you ignoring him? Again?” the disappointment was clear in his tone.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Really? Doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that he had a date last night?”

“That’d be stupid, since we’re not dating.”

“You’re right.”

“Do you think I’d be so irrational?”

“I do.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He shrugged. “So, what? You just gonna toss him to the side because he has friends other than you?”

“We’re not even friends.”

“You know, I don’t even know if I can disagree with that,” he sighed. “I thought you cared about him? I thought you were going to try to be better?”

“I mean… it’s just… I’m fine when it’s just us, you know? I… we talk, I listen to him, too. But, whenever he’s with other people, his friends, he just seems so much… happier? And I just get so freaked out that he’s gonna see that I’m a horrible little leech that he’s better off without.”

“Lance would never think that. You can get to know his friends, you know. It won’t kill you. Allura said Hunk and Pidge thought you were cool.”

“Are relationships always this complicated? Things just seem so much easier for other people.”

“I think you’re making things a bit… trickier than necessary.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You really just need to figure out what you both want, like I said weeks ago.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, you can’t just be this pseudo-boyfriend who gets possessive and jealous but won’t even hold his hand in public.”

He winced. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You really hurt his feelings when you said you weren’t dating, you know.”

“Why?”

“He’s got a lot of insecurities, and the way you said it… it was almost as if you were offended that anyone would think you were together.”

“It’s not like that at all!”

Shiro rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Maybe… maybe you should just let him go.”

He looked down at his feet. “It’s… okay, here’s what the problem is. Lance is like… he’s not someone you have a fling with, or someone you date for a month or so. He’s like, a forever kinda guy. Like, he’s just genuinely a nice person, he makes friends quickly, he's unfairly pretty and likeable and funny sometimes. And he’s smart, he has goals, a love for his family, for life and the whole world in general, like some perfect character in a book that the author wants to live vicariously through, you know?”

Shiro raised a brow. “Uh, sure. Go on.”

“And it’s like, we’re freshmen, and I don’t think I’m ready for a lifetime commitment, at this point, I guess.”

“So you’d just give up on forever, because you want another year or two to grow up? Will you really be so different then?”

“I mean, you change in college, right? That’s kinda the point.”

“You know, I can kinda get what you’re saying. I mean, Allura and I started dating super early on freshman year, and everyone gave us shit for it, saying we should’ve stayed single, that we were too young and still changing. Which, yeah, we were changing. Both of us were on our own for the first time, away from our families, discovering ourselves. But, we didn’t see each other as some kind of weight holding us back. It was more like… we were both growing up, and we were growing up together. As things shifted, we got in fights, of course—”

“You did?”

“Sure.”

“But, you guys are, like, perfect.”

“No one’s perfect, Keith, and no relationship is, either. College is stressful, so is life. Sometimes, you’re not at your best, and you last out at your partner. Other times, you both get on each other’s last nerve. We broke up for like, a month, you know, our sophomore year.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, and it was the worst month of my life. We were both so miserable.”

“Why’d you break up?”

“It was over something kinda trivial, looking back. We were on different pages when it came to, uh... sexual stuff, I guess.”

“Oh,” Keith said awkwardly. “You don’t have to share, you know.”

“Nah, I’m not embarrassed by it. It’s just, I’m asexual, and she knew that from the beginning, and was accepting. But, I started feeling like I was kind of robbing her of the experience, though she said she was fine being with me when I was most comfortable. Still, I lost a lot of nights of sleep over it, and eventually I just decided to try it with her. And, she seemed so happy, but then I couldn’t go through with it. I ended things with her the next day, as much as she tried to tell me it was fine.”

“But you got back together?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was my fault, in the first place—not for being asexual, of course, but for not accepting that she accepted me, I guess. We got back together, and now we talk about things much earlier, before one of us has a huge meltdown over it. And, we have sex, too, and I like it because it makes her happy.”

“I see…” Keith began. “Wait… what advice are you giving me?”

“The point is, relationships take work and communication. But, if you think the person is special, then it’s worth it, even if it’s outside of your comfort zone. I may not like just random sex, but I like connecting with Allura in that way—it works for us. Right now, maybe you don’t think you’d even be able to commit to a legitimate relationship, but maybe you’d find that it would come naturally with Lance, if you tried.”

“But what if it doesn’t come naturally?”

“Then, you’re still young, and you’ll both move on.”

He frowned. “That’s not what I want to hear.”

“Perhaps this is the advice you deserve, but not the advice you need right now.”

“Batman quotes? Really?”

“It’s a good movie, what can I say? I thought you’d relate to the broody superhero, honestly.”

He shook his head. “Is Allura with him still?”

Shiro glanced at his phone. “Yeah, they’re still brunching, I believe. Then she’s taking him to get a pedicure. Apparently he’s pretty upset.”

“I should talk to him today, shouldn’t I?”

“You should.”

“Without hooking up with him.”

“It’ll probably be easy since I highly doubt he’ll want to touch you with how you’ve been treating him.”

“That’s fair. Alright, I’ll text him. Apologize. And… we’ll DTR, for real this time.”

“Good. I’m sure it’ll be fine. He seems to care about you a lot, you know.”

“Right…” Keith took out his own phone, shooting Lance a text to meet up later.

The response was instant.

 _Let’s meet in the student center. Near the burger place. 3?  
_ 12:01pm

 **See you then.**  
12:01pm

 

* * *

 

At around half past three, Shiro heard an urgent knock at his door. With a groan, he slipped out from his bed and headed toward the door. He opened it, and was immediately pushed backward by Keith.

“Keith, what’s up?” he asked, putting his arms around Keith’s shaking shoulders.

“He…” he cried out. “He broke up with me!”

“Aw, Keith…” he cooed, petting Keith’s hair and pulling him tighter against his chest. “I’m sorry. Do you want some ice cream?”

He nodded weakly, and Shiro led him to his futon. He fell onto it then slumped forward, catching his face in his hands. “I’m so embarrassed,” he said.

Shiro was back in seconds, a carton of ice cream and a spoon procured, which he set near Keith’s leg. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he mumbled. He removed one hand and grabbed the ice cream. Then, he uncovered his face entirely so he could scoop a large bite of fudgy ice cream. “I almost started crying in the student center, Shiro, in front of everyone!”

“I’m sorry. Did… did he say why?” he wondered what Allura had said to Lance at their brunch. He was sure she wouldn’t have advised him to call things off himself.

“He just said he wants us to take a break for a bit. Then when things settle, maybe we could try… being friends.”

“Well, that’s something, right?”

“How the hell is that anything positive?”

“I mean… you could always be friends and progress things a bit more naturally. You could get to know him outside of the context of a sexual thing.”

He frowned around another bite of ice cream. “As if he won’t be dating someone by then. And after what I did to him? Don’t give me hope. I deserve to die alone.”

“No you don’t,” Shiro sighed.

“I guess… well, I was able to apologize beforehand. I told him that I wanted to be better, for him, and… I don’t know, I kind of thought he was going to accept it, me. He looked like he was tearing up, too, but then… He said all that. Like it didn’t even matter what I said!”

“Keith…”

“But I can’t even complain, can I? All this time I didn’t consider his feelings, just my own. It’s karma, I guess.”

“Oh, you beautiful little dummy, stop saying that.” Shiro threw an arm around his shoulder. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now at all, but you’re going to be okay, alright? Time will be good for both of you, maybe even for your relationship.”

He shook his head. “I’m so dumb. I didn’t want to think about forever, and I pushed him away, and now he’s gone forever…”

“No he’s not, he’s literally a five minute walk from you. Look, you guys get along well, you’ll be friends.”

“I don’t wanna be friends with him!” he whined.

Shiro pat his shoulder. “I know, I know. Don’t you worry, though! I’ll tell you all my best moves for seducing pretty freshmen.”

He chuckled weakly. “That sounds creepy.”

“I meant it as in—ugh, whatever. I seduced Allura, arguably the prettiest freshman GU’s ever seen! And, she in turn seduced me, an asexual. Okay, maybe she’ll have better advice. She got me with her pickup lines and her knowledge of Slavic languages, I’ll admit. Lance will be running to the altar for you in no time!”

“He’d probably appreciate the pickup lines, though I’m not aware of any feelings he has for linguistics.”

“He’s a nerd, I’m sure he’ll love it.”

He sniffed. “You really think it’ll be okay?”

“I know it will be! Bet you’ll be talking in less than a week, again, and you’re gonna charm the crap out of him.” He nodded encouragingly. “And just know that we’re here for you, okay? Me, Allura, the team… and with time, Lance will be too. And, hopefully, you’ll be there for him.”

“Is he really upset? Still? Will he forgive me? Should he?”

“He will,” Shiro assured. “He’s a good guy, like you said. It’s why you like him.”

“I guess you’re right.” He took another bite of ice cream. “And… thank you. I’m sorry for not listening to you, for making a mess of things.”

“Hey, life’s full of messes. So long as you learn from them, that’s what’s important, okay?” Keith nodded. “Good. Now, I hope you’ve learned that Shiro is always right.”

He smiled. “Of course.” He scraped the bottom of the carton. “Do you have any more? Or some liquor?”

“I have some wine,” Shiro said, crossing the room to the kitchen. “Oh, and some cookies. Let’s pig out and watch _Sa_ _y Yes to the Dress._ "

“The ultimate bro experience.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” he laughed, pouring two generous glasses of wine. “Allura always wants to watch, like, sports.” He shook his head. “Absolutely barbaric.”

“So unrefined. Everyone knows reality TV is where it’s at.” Returning, Shiro passed him a glass as well as a carton of cookies. Keith eyed them sadly. “Lance hates these cookies… and he loves wine and trash television.”

“Aw, come on, don’t dwell on that!” Shiro frowned. “We can watch Netflix instead.”

He whined. “He had me saved as ‘Netflix and chill’ in his phone, with the eggplant emojis next to it.”

“Uh, alright, scratch that. Oh, look, _Ancient Aliens_ is on!”

Keith looked on with interest, and Shiro sighed, relieved. He had a long few days ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops i hurt them lmao


	3. Conversion: from one to something more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello~ tis the final chapter! take a look at the updated tags, if you please

The days and weeks passed quickly, with tests and rugby doing a good job of keeping Keith distracted. Shiro and Allura made sure to spend as much time with him as possible, though try as he may he could never get much information about how Lance was doing from Allura. Keith at least knew that Lance wasn’t spending a lot of time with her, which he chose to interpret as him being just fine. He had plenty of friends other than Allura, anyway, so Lance, if he was in need of support, was covered.

The rest of his team were also there for him in his trying time, Shiro probably having briefed them on the situation. No longer was he Hickey, but Mullet, since they thought that was an innocuous enough name. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that that reminded him of Lance, who had often teased him for his signature hairstyle.

The fall season was drawing to a close, and they had performed about as well as expected. They didn’t qualify for nationals, but they were invited to a smaller, local tournament with a few other schools in neighboring states. Keith was surprisingly okay with their record, knowing that they’d be even better the next fall. In the meantime, spring was the season for 7s, which was faster paced and even more challenging. Not everyone on the team felt themselves capable of participating in those games, but they did plan to come out for conditioning, which would only make all them stronger for the regular 15s season.

About a week before Thanksgiving, to celebrate earning second place in their tournament, the team held another party, inviting the rugby girls as well. He saw Nyma chatting with her teammate, who herself was holding hands with Hunk.

He’d thought it smart to avoid them entirely, as he didn’t want news to get back to Lance that he was still something of a wreck—not out of embarrassment, but because he knew Lance, as noble as he was, would probably start feeling guilty about everything, and Keith didn’t want that since he knew that it was fair to say a majority of the debacle was his fault alone.

Despite his best efforts, he eventually bumped into Hunk while getting himself another beer.

“Hey, Keith,” he smiled freely.

“Oh, hey,” he replied with much less ease. “Uh, how’s it going? I didn’t know you knew Shay.”

“Oh, yeah. We have a few classes together.”

“Cool. Uh, are you dating?”

“Yup! Went official last week.”

“Wow, that’s quick,” he said. He winced at the odd look Hunk shot him. Hunk only laughed.

“How have you been?”

“Fine,” he lied. “I’ve been keeping busy with school and rugby, so that’s good,” he added.

Hunk nodded. “Got any plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, I’m flying home for the break. You?”

“Pidge and Matt live pretty close, and since Lance and I both live abroad, they invited us to stay with their family for the break.”

“Oh, that’s nice. How is, uh, everyone?”

“Lance is good,” Hunk said, guessing at Keith’s true question. “He’s working in a lab now, and busy as hell with tutoring, classes, projects… poor dude hardly has any free time! He’s been so stressed, honestly. He’s had a couple, er…” he looked away. “He’s tired, is all. In desperate need of a break.”

“That doesn’t sound good. He’s doing okay in class, though, right? I know he’d just get even more worked up if he wasn’t.”

“He’s fine in that respect, since that’s what he’s devoting himself to. Nyma invited him to come to this, actually, but he’s holed up in the library. Plus, he’s kinda stopped talking to her as much.”

“How come?”

“She’s asked him out a few more times. I guess when they go out together, too, she’s a bit too touchy, he said. And, he’s not really interested in her like that.”

“Oh.”

“Or, you know, anyone else like that,” Hunk said, looking at Keith significantly.

“I get it.” He took a sip of his beer. “I’m willing to talk when he is.”

“He would’ve come to this, I think. Said ‘hi’ to you and stuff, but he didn’t want to deal with Nyma, he said.”

Keith found himself both hating her as well as thanking her. While he wanted to see Lance, he wasn’t sure if he was truly ready as he said.

“I think it’ll be good,” Hunk continued. “He’s been kinda… off, lately? Like, how he was during the first weeks. Super anxious and a bit strung-out.”

Keith frowned. “I mean, I guess he had his stresses, but he always seemed fine with me.”

“He was a lot better with you, I think. But, I mean, he has his things. Baggage and stuff. I think he felt more confident, though, with you. He liked you a lot.”

“I know,” Keith said, guilt evident in his voice.

“Don’t be so down, though. As I’m sure you know, he’s a smart guy. You two can figure this out.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

He smiled, patting Keith on the back. “I’m glad I bumped into you. I look forward to officially welcoming you into the crew.”

He flushed. “Oh, thanks.”

He laughed. “Anytime, buddy!”

 

* * *

 

Keith was in the gym when his phone started ringing, interrupting his go-to workout playlist. He glared, stopping his set to see who was calling him. He answered immediately on reading the name.

“Lance?” he said, blaming how breathless he sounded on his workout rather than anything as silly as emotions.

“H-hey…” he said, voice weak. Was he crying?

“Lance?” he repeated. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, uh… look, I’m sorry for calling—not that I’m sorry it’s you! But, I mean, I was hoping the first time we talked wouldn’t be… like this.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, quickly packing up his things. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the student clinic—“

“What happened? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you?”

“Yeah, I need someone else to sign me out. I would’ve called Hunk or Pidge but they’re both taking their intro EG exam right now.”

“What happened?” he asked again.

“It’s nothing that bad! I just, uh… fell? I hit my head, though, which is the only reason I’m actually here. No lasting damage, though.”

“Fell? From what? Where were you?”

“I was in bio lab. I don’t know, I think it was just the… the smell, maybe? Formaldehyde is no perfume, that’s for sure. And, my sleep isn’t all that great, I’ve been so busy and stuff. Guess everything just caught up to me.”

Keith had the feeling that he wasn’t telling him the whole truth. “Alright, I’m on my way. I should be there in five minutes. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“Ah, no, that’s fine. I need to talk to some nurse, anyway.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

“Thanks, Keith.”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

Lance asked if they could go to Keith’s room instead of his own, and Keith relented. Upon arrival, Lance turned up his nose at the mess.

“Geez, it’s gotten even worse,” he chuckled. “How is that possible?”

There were admittedly a lot more dirty clothes and empty beer cans than when he’d actually kept things tidy on Lance’s behalf. Those days, Shiro was his only guest and, while he too often shook his head at the state, Keith didn’t care enough to try being clean for him.

Lance slipped into Keith’s bed like it was second nature to him, and perhaps it was. He pat the space next to him, and Keith slid under the comforter beside him, though he kept his distance.

“Can we cuddle?” Lance asked. “Talk a bit?”

“Sure,” Keith said, shifting so as to better accommodate Lance’s request. Lance happily plopped his head on Keith’s chest, turned on his side and pressing his socked feet against Keith’s.

“How have you been?” Lance asked.

“Alright, I guess. Busy,” he said. The weight of Lance’s head over his heart was comforting, though he hoped Lance wouldn’t comment on the erratic beating of it. “Oh, I switched majors.”

“Did you? To what?”

“Anthro.”

“That’s awesome! I read a story about bonobos and the crazy sex they have! I’ll admit, they creep me out a bit. Look too much like humans.”

Keith chuckled. “They’re pretty interesting primates. I had to write an article review for that intro class, and the one I picked was on oral sex frequencies in bonobo groups.”

“Ew, that’s so weird.”

“I thought there was nothing wrong with a little bump and grind?”

“That’s when it’s two or more—or less, I guess, it’s whatever—humans! Not monkeys!”

“They’re apes.”

“Whatever!”

Keith lifted his arm, which was currently being crushed under Lance’s neck, and curled it around his shoulders. He rested it in Lance’s hair, and judging by his please hum, the action was appreciated.

“My schedule for next semester will be a ton busier,” Keith continued. “Since I didn’t take the appropriate classes for a freshman anthro major. But, I’ll have time to catch up easily, and should be on track by next fall.”

“That’s good,” Lance nodded. “You should join an anthro lab. I hear they do a lot of cool things.”

“Oh yeah, Hunk mentioned that you got into your lab?”

“Yeah! I’m kinda doing grunt work right now, super boring, honestly. It’ll be some time before I’m trusted with, like, my own project, or even capable of coming up with a question on my own. For now, I just do a lot of repetitive stuff with DNA, transforming bacteria strains and the like.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I think what the professor researches is pretty dope. I hope to get more into that than the part of the lab I’m in. I’m just the E. coli kid, not cool enough to play with the fruit flies.”

“Gross.”

“They are a little gross. And, sometimes they get out of their vials and fly around the lab! The other day, I came back to the room and three of them started flying around! I don’t know if they hitched a ride on me or if they got in from outside, but it was still nasty.”

“And you’re still working a lot?”

He nodded. “Yeah, there’ve been a lot more people scrambling for last minute help. How are you doing in calc?”

He shrugged, “I think I’ll manage a B+.”

He gasped, offended. “I promised you and A, Keith, and dammit, I’ll get you that A! Coran gives extra credit if you attend some of the math department lectures and summarize them, you know.”

“I don’t wanna write stuff about math. That’s not what math is!”

“That’s what complex math is! Pages on pages of words, with only a few formula.”

“That’s disgusting.”

He laughed. “You’re right. I’d never go down that road, myself.”

“You’re not overextending yourself, are you?”

“No such thing. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m pretty flexible.”

Keith flicked his ear gently—how could he forget that detail? “You know what I mean. Do you want to talk about what happened today?”

He sighed, pressing his face closer against Keith’s shirt. “No… it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“This isn’t the first time this happened. It’s just the first time I got sent somewhere for it.”

“The first time what happened? You fainting, or whatever?”

“It was not a faint! It was a fall in which I was knocked out for a second due to hitting my head!”

“Oh, of course. So this swoon followed by a nap, was this the first time?”

“Er, well, I suppose I’ve ‘swooned’ a few times as you say.”

“Because you’re tired?”

“Well, that’s probably not helping the situation, but no it’s not that.” He swallowed, hand reaching out for Keith’s. “I’m failing my bio lab.”

“What? You? How?”

“I just… I mean, I’m doing well in the class, and the first few weeks were whatever. But, the first time we had to dissect something, I just freaked out! I had to leave, and the professor was understanding. That was the week I wasn’t eating any meat, remember?”

He nodded. “Wait. This was going on when we were talking? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it would be a problem, honestly. The professor let me make up that grade by writing a small paper instead. But, we’ve still been dissecting things, and after running out again, I just… stopped going?”

“Lance…”

“I know, I know! It’s dumb, but, just the thought of being anywhere near… that…” he shuddered. “Even now, it makes me sick to my stomach. I’ll probably have to drop the class, maybe my whole major.”

“You wouldn’t have to drop your whole major. What is it, like, a phobia? Can’t you explain that to your professor?”

“What’s the point of even finishing it out, though,” he said. “I can’t be a doctor if I can’t even cut open flesh, can I?”

“Oh,” Keith said, himself having no advice for his problem.

“Exactly. So, not only am I failing this class, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep because I’m so worried. It’s never been this bad before, and I’m not sure why! It got to the point that I can’t even see bruises! There was a blood drive a couple weeks ago, and I was like, let me challenge myself—I had a panic attack! Today, when I went to lab for the first time in forever, I started having one, too, and I went to the bathroom, threw up everything, and eventually blacked out. One of my classmates found me later and called campus police to take me to the clinic. It was so embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing, this is like, a legitimate psychological thing, you know. You said it was never this bad before… did you know, earlier, that you were bothered by the sight?”

He gave a small nod. “Yeah… when I was younger, there was a hurricane that passed over the island. It wasn’t all that damaging, though a few buildings near the coast were knocked down. My family volunteered to help with the cleanup, and… I saw someone whose leg had been… uh…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Keith said. “I’m sure it was gruesome.”

“But, eventually, I was fine! I kept working at clearing the debris, even watched as doctors came and reset her leg, helped her. I was so fascinated, and that’s the day I told mi mama I wanted to be a doctor. My family isn’t rich, and we weren’t in the best neighborhood. No one in my family had even gone to college, my dad didn’t even graduate high school. But, they all worked so hard to send me to the nice school a city over, the school that had resources for kids to take AP exams and get into schools in the US.

“I was so happy to get in, to pursue my dream, and now… my stupid brain won’t even let me! How can I tell my parents that? How can I face them? They did so much, and now I’m just, throwing it back in their face.”

“It’s not like that, Lance.”

“I haven’t been able to tell anyone ‘cause it’s so embarrassing. To be crippled by the sight of blood, or needles, or bruises. Even hickeys!”

“Is that why you got me that makeup?”

“Yeah. I literally got nauseous at the sight.” He shook his head. “And, trust me, I get what’s going on; I’m all about ending mental disorder stigma. I mean, I’ve been taking medicine for stuff for years.”

“Are you still taking this medicine?” he asked.

“Of course! I take it every morning. But, as to whether it’s staying down or not…”

“Wait, so you’ve been skipping your lab, but are you still getting sick outside of it?”

He nodded.

“But… maybe you’re throwing it up before it can… absorb the full dose? I’m not a bio guy, so I actually have no idea if that’s a thing.”

“I mean… it’s possible. But, well, I had stopped taking my depression meds for a bit.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I was dumb? Because I was with you and I felt happy, like I didn’t need them? Because they give me horrible night sweats and I didn’t want you to be disgusted when we slept together because I’d convinced myself that you’d leave me over something that I know is trivial but that’s always been so embarrassing to me. Because I was going out and drinking and the meds lower the threshold of seizures when consuming alcohol, but I wanted to be able to fit in with everyone. Of course alcohol just makes me feel so much worse once the weekend is over, anyway, so that was stupid. But, anyway, I know those meds are working since I’m sweating again, which is another reason why I can’t sleep! Back home, I had a decent sized bed so when I soaked through my sheets I could, like, roll over to the opposite side and go back to bed, repeating every few hours, since the other side would be dry again by then. But these beds are small, and I don’t want to bother Hunk so I just stay up trying to do work, but then I’m tired the next day and I have to drink coffee which does not do well for my anxiety, and I’m just a giant freakin’ mess and I’m sorry.”

Keith gave him a few seconds to collect himself before speaking. “Look, there’s nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault, you know.”

“Sure it is. I shouldn’t have stopped taking my meds, I shouldn’t have drank so much, and I shouldn’t even have come to the US.”

“Okay, well, maybe the first two things were mistakes, but the last one? Come on, that’s a bit extreme.”

“No it’s not! I’m going to fail bio and fail my whole major and never get into med school and never be a doctor and I’ll be homeless without a job and my family will hate me!”

“First of all, do you really think your family will only love you if you’re a doctor?”

“That’s all they ever wanted for me. To be rich and happy so my kids wouldn’t have to struggle like I did.”

“You don’t even care about money. And, I’m sure, neither do they. They worked because they wanted you happy, and you both thought that the whole doctor thing was the way. You said you wanted to be a doctor ‘cause you saw this lady who was hurt and you wanted to be able to help her, not because you wanted a big house. Plus, they would’ve done the same if you’d wanted to be a lawyer, or a fashion designer, or a movie star.

“Another flaw in your logic: do you think everyone who isn’t a doctor is broke and homeless? ‘Cause if so, that’d be a huge problem. That would mean a majority of the population would be out of luck, right?”

He nodded slowly. “I… I mean, yeah. I guess.”

“You can still be a biochem major, you can be a damn good biochemist instead of a doctor. You’re already in this cool lab, as a freshman, and none of that stuff you work on bothers you, does it?”

“No, I guess it doesn’t. I mean, the flies are killed and stuff, and cells, but… it’s not that gross to me since they’re so small and don’t look like humans.”

“So, you can be a doctor in another way. Go get your PhD or whatever, or be a beekeeper.”

Lance laughed. “Maybe both.”

“Sure, why not? I think the world could use more happy bees.”

“And where will you be? While I’m transforming happy, mutant bees like Dr. Frankenstein?”

“Obviously I’ll be a professional rugby player, but I’m also super into chimpanzees right now, so I may have to take over for Jane Goodall when she passes.”

“You can teach the monkeys rugby.”

“Chimpanzees are also apes.”

“Oh my god you’re such an anthro snob.”

“Merely a primate snob.”

Lance laughed. “I… you know, I feel so much better now that I’ve talked about this. Thank you for listening.”

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t before. And, I know that’s probably more my fault than anything.”

“No, it’s fine…”

“No, it’s not. Also, I wouldn’t leave you just ‘cause you’re sweaty or whatever.”

“I think that was just me fixating on one element, since, you know, there’s also the whole mental illness thing that goes with that.”

“I mean, that doesn’t change who you are. Or how I feel about you. Or the fact that I’m happier with you. A better person.”

He grinned. “Aw… that’s so sweet!”

“Thanks, Shiro makes me watch rom coms sometimes.”

“You’re lying through your teeth I know you’ve been planning your wedding since the third grade!”

“Hey, maybe I like to be prepared! I had two mothers—of course I’m into weddings.”

“Well, I guess I like you too, or whatever. And, I was happier with you. But, I don’t know. I guess, it wasn’t enough? Like what we were, I mean.”

“You wanted us to be, like, dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Do… do you still want that?”

He stared at the wall. “I mean… maybe eventually? But right now, I’m kinda in a super weird head space and I don’t want to subject you to that. Maybe my meds aren’t reacting well, or something. I also haven’t had much of an appetite for food or sex.”

“Why does everyone think that’s all I care about?” Keith pouted. “I’m plenty capable of not jumping your bones, you know.”

“You have been a good boy today,” Lance purred.

Keith swallowed at the comment. “Well, gee, you didn’t have to say it like that…”

He laughed.

“So…” Keith continued. “What does that mean? For us?”

“I think… I’d like to stay friends, just for now. It’s not as if I’d be dating anyone else, or anything. But, I’d feel bad using you as a crutch instead of just standing on my own, you know?”

“I guess that makes sense. Well, you can lean on me when you need, as a friend.”

“And, I’m not going to say you can’t go on dates or do whatever with anyone, but, I’d like us to keep talking, being friends, with the goal of, well, you know.”

“Forever?”

He flushed. “Gee, that’s fast.”

He chuckled. “Alright, so just the goal of dating, then. For real.”

“Yeah. If you’d be cool with that.”

“Of course I would be. Very cool. Uh, with that.” He cleared his throat.

Chuckling, Lance leant back so he could look Keith in the eye. He stretched out his neck and placed a soft kiss against Keith’s cheek.

From then on, they were nearly inseparable. Keith became a common figure in Lance’s room and in his life. Lance had met his parents via Skype, and Keith had spent an uncomfortable five minutes talking to Mrs. Sanchez on the phone. Keith even spent some time with just Hunk and Pidge, the trio staying up in the student center studying or writing while Lance went home to sleep.

At Keith’s request, Lance talked to a psychiatrist about fixing some of his medications, though it was already winter break by the time they started taking effect.  Keith’s parents had suggested that he invite Lance to come home with him, though he thought three weeks with his not-quite-but-probably-soon-to-be-boyfriend and his overbearing parents might be a bit much. Instead, Lance was spending the holidays with Allura’s family as well as Shiro up in Canada. The distance was admittedly horrible, even if they hadn’t resumed the physical aspect of their relationship. Keith had gotten used to the subtle, platonic touches they shared, Lance throwing a hand on his shoulder or petting his hair teasingly, sometimes even going so far as to cuddle. Both found that they slept much easier that way, even if the school’s provided beds weren’t so conducive for comfortable bed sharing.

Daily texting and near-daily Facetiming helped pass the otherwise boring break. Keith had lamented all about visiting his dull extended family who were still in denial about their daughters being, quite frankly, the biggest lesbians GU had ever seen. Lance seemed to be having a much more fun break, experiencing snow and expansive peaks for the first time. The beginning months of winter at GU had been mild, and while they’d had days of blustering winds and near freezing temperatures, the Midwest school hadn’t experienced any sticking snow before they’d all left for break.

Allura had texted Keith an endearing photo of Lance, still in his PJs, playing with the snow outside her home. He didn’t think it too odd to set it as his phone background—hell, even his mom, after seeing it on his phone, had a copy of the photo up on her desk. Keith thought _that_ was weird, though she insisted that it wasn’t. Parents should try to love their kid’s future spouses, she had teased.

Lance had found the wallpaper quite sweet when they’d reunited, late at night before the first day of classes for the spring semester. He tried to snap a similarly flattering photo of Keith for his phone, but Keith had been too embarrassed to acquiesce. Instead, Lance got a hold of the rugby team’s social media guy who offered him a number of action shots to choose from. Keith couldn’t begrudge him his selection, as it was a particularly impressive-looking try, his arm stretched out wide as he brought the ball to the ground while defenders attempted to bring him down.

Both of them had busier spring schedules, but they always made time for each other. Keith finally took Lance on a proper date, made much easier since his parents had allowed him to bring his car up for the semester. It was a bit cliché, just dinner and a movie, but they’d loved every second of it. Keith walked Lance to his room, a true gentleman, and earned a second chance at their first kiss, this one markedly tamer than before. He thought it was infinitely better, too.

They both seemed perfectly happy, holding hands and kissing in public like any regular couple would. Their friends had been ecstatic when they’d finally announced that they were officially together, and they were immediately invited on double and triple dates.

Lance said he was doing better with his new medicine, and Keith made sure he always remembered his pills. His anxiety about blood and needles had decreased some, but he stuck with his decision to not go on to medical school. His parents had been completely understanding, and other than a lecture from his mother for looking too thin and not calling often enough, that phone call had gone over just fine.

The only thing he seemed to be struggling with was headaches, which he claimed were due to caffeine withdrawal. When he’d woken up in Keith’s room and gone to the bathroom, he found some of Keith’s painkillers that he used when he’d gotten too banged up or his muscles were sore from a hard workout.

“Hey, babe?” he asked, peeking into Keith’s room.

“Huh?” he asked, not looking up from his phone.

“Can I take one of these? I have a huge headache.”

Keith glanced up, squinting so he could tell what bottle Lance was holding up. “They’re muscle relaxers. It’ll probably just make you sleepy.”

“Oh, okay,” he frowned. “I’ve just been getting such crummy headaches lately, you know. It feels like it’s in my neck, though, if that makes sense.”

“Maybe you should see a chiropractor,” Keith said.

He scoffed. “You think I have chiropractor money?”

“It’s only, like, twenty bucks to walk in. I could cover it for you. We have someone in town who works with the rugby team since all of our bodies are fucked.”

“Maybe next time, then,” he said, face uneasy. He still got a bit uncomfortable when Keith offered to buy him things without regard for price. For Christmas, he’d been overwhelmed when he’d been sent an labcoat embroidered with his name, a new guitar—he’d been forced to leave his old one back home, which he’d told Keith during one of their longer phone calls, saying he missed being able to play—and boxes of fancy chocolates, when all he’d sent Keith was a scarf he knitted. Keith ended up wearing the scarf up until it got too hot to do so, and Lance had put his presents to good use, so he felt a little less guilty, at least.

Later that night, Lance was tossing and turning in bed.

“Dude,” Keith said finally. “Stop.”

“I can’t,” he whined. “My back hurts.”

“Oh my god, fine. Go have a pill you junkie.”

“My own plug, I’m so happy!” he chirped before rolling out of bed for the bathroom. He returned less than a minute later, and he was out within twenty minutes.

His headaches weren’t getting much better, even after visiting a chiropractor. Keith was worried that there might be something wrong with his brain, or something, but Lance insisted that it wasn’t all that serious.

“It’s just annoying, sometimes, when I can’t sleep. Don’t worry about it,” he’d said.

Keith tried to help him when he could, though he didn’t feel great about just throwing painkillers at him whenever he was ailing. Of course, he was hard pressed to resist Lance’s begging for long, so usually if they spent a night together, Lance would have one. Otherwise, Lance would stay up late doing work.

One day, Lance seemed happier than Keith had ever seen him, his laugh louder and brighter than usual.

“You’re in a good mood,” he noted with a smile.

“Of course. How could I not be after last night?” he leaned into Keith, smirking. Across from them, Pidge gagged.

“Ew…”

Hunk laughed at her expense. “Aw, don’t be like that little Pidgeon!” he said.

Keith blushed, turning back to his work and trying not to recall too vividly their mind-blowing sex from the previous night… and the morning.

“Hey, we should all go out tonight!” Lance said. “Keith’s first game’s coming up, and soon he’ll be too busy on the weekends.”

“Go out? It’s a Wednesday,” Keith said.

“Not like drink kinda go out! Just go to a restaurant. There’s an awesome Mexican place that has karaoke on Wednesday nights.”

“I guess I’m free enough,” Pidge said.

“Awesome!” Lance smiled. “What about y’all?”

“I’m free. Let me text Shay and invite her,” Hunk said.

“Yeah, no practice today, so I’m good,” Keith said.

“Perfect! I’ll invite Shiro and Allura, too. Pidge, let’s bring Matt,” he nodded, smiling.

Once they’d had their fill of studying and the rides had been arranged, the group hit the town. Keith assured Lance that he could order whatever he wanted, his treat, so he got an appetizer, a large dinner, as well as dessert. Keith was just happy to see him able to stomach so much after his months of struggling to eat, so he hadn’t commented on it.

It was an amazing night, maybe one of the most fun he’d had at college. They delighted in eating food that wasn’t from the dining hall, those old enough and who weren’t driving had a couple margaritas, and they all gifted the other restaurant patrons with renditions of their favorite songs over the microphone. Afterwards, everyone parted with grins, but Lance asked Keith to take a walk with him around campus.

They ended up near the “lake”, which was really just more of a glorified pond. Still, from a simple, wooden bench, they were offered a view of the full moon reflected on the calm surface, GU’s signature clock tower alight across the water. Keith had his arm around Lance, who was humming softly, not wishing to break the silence.

“Today was a lot of fun,” Lance said finally.

“It was.”

“Are you nervous for your first game?”

“No. I think we’ll be really good. Only the most committed of us are playing, so the talent pool is just better. Most everyone is an upperclassman, too, so they know how the flow of 7s goes. We won’t have those awkward first-game jitters.

“That’s good,” he said, smiling. “I’m sure you’ll win, then.”

“Are you coming?”

He hummed. “I’ll try my best, babe, but I have that trip I need to make for class Friday night. I’ll get back to campus at around eight Saturday morning. You start at ten, right?”

“Yeah. It’s okay if you’re too tired to come.” He wondered if Lance had other reasons to skip, namely his discomfort with blood. The other day, he’d met up with Keith for dinner after practice, where he’d misjudged a tackle and ended up colliding heads with his teammate. Priz had gotten a bloody nose, while Keith sported a nasty bruise over his eyebrow. Lance had nearly thrown up on seeing him, rushing to help but then seeming to remember that he couldn’t stomach the sight. When Priz walked into the dining hall, laughing through his bloodied tissue, Lance had paled, excusing himself quickly.

“Thanks,” he said, leaning into Keith more. “You’re the best.”

Keith really wanted to tell Lance that he loved him.

“Guess what?” Lance asked instead.

“What?”

“I stayed up super late last night and got a crap ton of work done. I finished a paper that’s not due for a month! How wild is that?”

“Usually you only finish papers two weeks in advance, so it is a bit wild, you nerd.”

“I know! I feel so on top of my shit,” he beamed. “And, I sent my sister her birthday present, figured out my schedule, submitted my grant application for the summer…”

“What application?”

“I didn’t tell you? I’m trying to do research here during the summer. I need funding though for housing and food. I don’t think they’ll give it to me, even though my professor helped me with the project proposal. It’s fine if I don’t get it, though, since Coran said he’d house me already.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it.”

He shrugged. “I only did it for the experience of submitting that kind of thing. It’s not like I need to be accepted to come do work in the lab for free.”

“When do you find out if you got it?”

“Not for another month, so, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, you know, since I’ll forget about it by then. So, it’d either be a pleasant surprise or, since I won’t even remember, I won’t care.”

“Well, I’ll care. We’ll have a celebration when you get it.”

He laughed. “Whatever you say, babe.” He turned, meeting Keith’s eyes. “I’m really glad I met you, you know.”

“Me too,” Keith said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“No, like, seriously. I know it was kinda messy, but I hope you know I don’t blame you for that. Neither of us were ready.”

“I… uh, thanks for saying that. What brought this up?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, just… don’t want to leave anything unsaid, you know? If you ever felt guilty on my behalf, I’d feel horrible. And, I know you can’t just love a person’s mental illness away, that you can only support them through it, and it’s not like I’ll ever be cured, but I just wanna thank you for sticking with me through it. And to say that, no matter what happens, it’s never going to be your fault.”

“Alright…” Keith said. Speaking of leaving things unsaid… he cleared his throat.

“—and,” Lance continued. “You’ve been so great to me, you know? Perfect, even. To be honest, I think, at this trajectory, we’d be more of a power couple than Shiro and Allura.”

He laughed. “Don’t say that around them, they’ll challenge us to, like, a date-off or something.”

“I’m just… I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my time with you, Keith. You’re so, so important to me.”

He swallowed? Should he say it? Lance was saying some pretty deep things, himself, but he wasn’t using the L-word. “I’m looking forward to it, too.”

He smiled. “Good. Wanna head to bed? We both have class pretty early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure. Oh! We can probably make it in time to watch an episode of _Four Weddings_!”

“Lead the way, then,” he said, chuckling.

 

* * *

 

Lance had kissed Keith goodbye Friday afternoon, heading out to meet his class for their trip to Chicago. Keith spent the night getting his ass kicked by Allura and Shiro at Super Smash, then woke up early the next day for their game.

“Hey, Hickey’s back,” Gimli had teased.

Keith rolled his eyes. Lance _had_ been extra affectionate lately, and Keith was nearly out of his foundation because of it, not that he wore it on game days, or minded in the slightest, honestly.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he mumbled with a smile. “Don’t you have a warm-up to lead, captain?”

“Tactical subject change,” he nodded appreciatively. “Though I guess you’re right!” He turned toward the rest of the team. “Line up, soldiers! It’s time for war!”

Through the warm-up, Keith kept his eyes peeled for Lance. By the time the game started, he didn’t see him in his usual spot near Allura, which was fine by him. He couldn’t blame Lance for wanting to get some sleep in after what was surely a long night.

So, he focused in on the game. Sevens were short, only two halves of seven minutes each. On first explanation, it sounded easy. However, given the smaller number of players, everyone was practically sprinting damn near the whole time. Keith loved it, how hectic it could get, even. Running was when he felt most in his element, the burn in his thighs only a comfort to him, a reminder that he was alive.

They came away with a solid win, and then had an hour long break. The other team had agreed to a scrimmage of 15s as well, so both teams were recovering in the meantime. Keith snacked on some string cheese Allura had brought them during their break, checking his phone for any messages. Surprisingly, Lance hadn’t texted him back that morning, his own messages staring back up at him from hours before.

 **Good morning, gorgeous! :) Don’t worry about making my game, I’ll score for you anyway**  
8:15am

 **Maybe score later too ;)  
** 8:15am

 **Lol sorry that was lame, a Lance-esque joke. The world doesn’t deserve two of you  
** 8:30am

Usually Lance would have been delighted with his attempt at flirting. He supposed it was possible he’d gotten back to campus and promptly fallen asleep.

 **Good morning again honey bunches of oats. Text me when you’re up, we can get lunch  
** 10:35am

 **Or we can skip straight to dessert ;P  
** 10:35am

 **Or I guess gay to dessert?  
** 10:35am

 **Lmao sorry I’ll stop. We won our 7s match, scrimmage starts at 11:30. Allura brought us those dope Tillamook cheese things that you like. I’ll nab you a couple when she’s not looking. If you don’t see me later today, just know that she caught me trying to steal some and that she murdered me**  
10:36am

“Hey,” Shiro said. Keith glanced up.

“Yo.”

“Coach wants to help the other team with scrum practice, but our forwards are lazy; wanna be a prop?”

“Me? I don’t know how to prop. You know I hate being objectified.”

“Har har. Fine, be the hooker.”

“My true calling,” he said, standing. They headed toward where the other team had assembled, no longer seeing them as the enemy. With a community as small as collegiate rugby in the US, most programs were quite friendly with each other outside of games, only wanting to help each other build up their respective teams. The other team was predominately freshman, and it was clear that they were struggling. He was hardly surprised their coaches offered to help teach them something.

After the impromptu scrum practice—which, admittedly, did Keith some good since he was pretty useless in them—they had a light warm-up and stretch, and then the game began. They were already looking so much better than they had in the fall, and they quickly subbed out the upperclassmen after they took a large lead.

Keith was kicking, for some odd reason, since Shey was out and the only other person who kicked was studying abroad for the spring. He’d just gone through all the effort to get in a try, and now he was attempting the conversion. He was not very confident.

He remembered a few weeks ago, when he’d brought Lance out to the pitch to show him how to throw the ball.

“What kinda bullshit shape is this?” he’d grumbled on dropping it. It bounced away haphazardly.

Keith had laughed.

“I bet I could kick it! I played soccer, you know. I was the goalie, so I’m a pro at drop-kicks.”

“Actually, you’re probably a pro at punting, not drop-kicks.”

“What’s the difference?”

And Keith had proceeded to explain the difference, demonstrating how with drop-kicks, the ball actually had to hit the ground. Lance had attempted, the ball hitting the ground at a wrong angle and his foot only skimming the side since it bounced out of the way. Keith couldn’t help himself, he burst into laughter, and Lance, more than a little embarrassed, rushed to him, throwing himself on top of him and begging him to stop laughing. He’d even tried going for a tackle, but his form was all wrong so Keith simply stepped back, dragging Lance who hung around his waist.

Eventually, he managed to get a better grip around his ankles, and Keith fell onto his back. It hardly hurt, as one of the first things you had to learn when you played rugby was how to fall. Triumphant, Lance had slithered up his body, plopping his chin on his hands which rested on Keith’s chest.

“I win,” he’d smiled.

“Guess you do,” he’d smiled back, not minding the view in the slightest, the sun casting a halo of gold around his head. He leaned up, attempting to kiss Lance, but he’d pulled back.

“Nope, only winners can kiss me!” he rolled off Keith and was on his feet in seconds, running to retrieve the mis-kicked ball. “What about the football kick thing? After your score your tries?” He set the back on its point, but it fell over.

“You need a stand,” Keith said. “Though, you could drop-kick it, too, if you want.”

“What? Why? It’s so hard!”

“If you practice, it’s not so bad. You just have to get the timing, kick it just as it’s bouncing back up. That way it doesn’t have any time to go awry.”

He pouted. “Punting’s easier.”

“You can punt during the game, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you do it when—“

“Keith!”

He turned at the voice, coming back to the game in a second. His teammates were looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, sorry, got distracted,” he yelled back.

“No, it’s Shiro.” Priz was pointing toward the sideline, from where Shiro was barreling toward him. He looked at the other team, who seemed equally confused, then back to Shiro.

“Keith!” Shiro said.

“What’s up? You’re not allowed on the field right now, you know.” He eyed the ref who was watching the scene with a raised brow.

“It’s an emergency!”

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, we have to go. It’s Lance. He’s in the hospital.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped. “What… what do you mean?”

Shiro took his arm. “Allura called me, and she’s running to bring her car around. He’s fine, Hunk told her, but we should go.”

He nodded numbly, letting himself be dragged away without a word. Apparently, Shiro had told the coaches, who handed Keith his bag, packed and ready to go, on his way out of the stadium. As they drove past the field, he vaguely recalled seeing the game restart, the kick sailing through the posts for a successful conversion.

He didn’t remember much of the drive, only that Shiro and Allura kept trying to talk to him. Allura was on the phone, relaying information, but he couldn’t hear a thing. He knew the drive was at least fifteen minutes, having made the drive himself once to support one of his teammates after they’d fractured their wrist, and yet it felt like it lasted only a minute.

He finally snapped out of it in the waiting room, when he saw Hunk and Pidge talking to each other.

“Keith,” Hunk said, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“What… where’s Lance?”

“He’s fine, he’s going to be fine,” he assured them. “The doctors say he should wake up soon, we just have to wait till everything’s out of his system.”

“Can we see him?”

“No, not yet. They have to give him a psychiatric evaluation first.”

“Why?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Hunk glanced at Pidge, then back to Keith. “Maybe we should sit down.”

“No, I want to see him.”

“Keith,” Allura placed a hand on his arm. “Let’s sit down and let Hunk explain the situation.”

“What situation? I know he’s got, like, mental health stuff, but… I mean, he was in Chicago with his class yesterday.”

Hunk shook his head. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Why would he lie about that?”

“Because he got drunk and took a bunch of pills sometime last night.”

Keith just stared. “He… he wouldn’t do that! He’s been so happy lately!” he insisted. “He likes all his classes, his friends! He was on top of his shit, and so proud to be! And he takes his medications every day, he talks to me when he’s upset!”

Pidge placed her hand on Keith’s arm. “It’s possible that he was hiding some stuff, from all of us.”

“Why would he? He knows we support him. What could have changed?”

“You know it’s not always one set thing,” Allura said. “And I can see in your face that you’re blaming yourself, Keith, though you shouldn’t.”

“So what, I should blame him?”

“That’s not what she means, either,” Shiro said.

Keith was wracking his brain for any indications that Lance may have been suicidal, and he couldn’t think of one. They hadn’t fought, he’d been getting good grades, opening up to his family more and more. But, he supposed Allura was right. Maybe there didn’t have to be one event that had caused it. “I guess… He was a lot happier lately, wasn’t he? Like on Wednesday, and ever since then, he’s kinda been saying… weird stuff.”

“Like what?” Pidge asked.

“Like, the other day, he thanked me for supporting him so much, and for being there. And…” he gasped. “He said he looked forward to spending the rest of his time with me. He’d talk about the future as if it wasn’t going to happen. Has he been planning this?”

“It’s possible that he has been, if that’s the case,” Pidge frowned. “Sometimes when people plan to commit suicide, the decision itself is a huge stress relief. They don’t have to worry about the future, for one, so they seem like they’re better. And then they… try to tie up lose ends, I suppose.”

“That’s why he brought us all together… and he did seem so less stressed.”

“I talked to someone in that class, too. She said their trip isn’t for another few weeks.”

“Where… where was he?”

“His room. I stayed at Shay’s last night, which I guess he knew. I just opened the door when I got back at around… 10:30? Thought he might want to go to your game, so I called his name. He didn’t answer so I went to shake him, and…” he looked down. “Well, he wouldn’t wake up,” he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I called 911, kept trying to wake him up. He opened his eyes for a little bit, but he couldn’t talk.”

“Hunk,” Keith said. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

He nodded. “I will be. I’m just worried. It’s not my time to be upset, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” He fell onto a nearby chair, running a hand over his face. “What are they doing to him?”

“They guess that he ingested everything last night. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to do lasting damage. But, it’s already in his system, so pumping his stomach wouldn’t do anything.”

Keith startled. “Wait. Do they know what kind of pills he took?”

“Um… I don’t think the toxicology report is ready. But, they did say, since he didn’t throw up, it was probably just a few too many, like, muscle relaxers. Not a whole bottle, or anything. With the alcohol too, they think he’ll be asleep for a day or so from when he took them.”

“I think… I think he took them from me,” Keith said. “I have some for when I’m sore from rugby, and lately he’s been complaining of back problems and headaches. He would have one before bed. But, maybe he took some more? Or just stashed those. But… why would he do this?” he heard his voice crack, and Shiro was at his side quickly. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. I’ve only ever wanted to help him.”

“Of course you have,” Shiro said, drawing him close into a hug.

“He even told me that, if anything were to happen, to not blame myself. But how can I not? I should’ve seen the signs.”

“You couldn’t have known, Keith,” Allura said, sitting on his other side. “Lance was very intentional with how he was acting so that no one, especially not you, would know.”

“What do I do?” he asked. “What if nothing I can do will make him happy? What if he does this again?”

“You can’t think like that, Keith,” Shiro said. “You’ll talk to him, you’ll try and understand him. But, you need to let him know, eventually, maybe not when it’s so raw, that you’re hurting from this, too.”

“What do you mean? He’s already feeling shitty, that would be awful of me to say!”

“No, I agree,” Hunk said. “Lance will probably be embarrassed, try to sweep it under the rug. But, he can’t avoid the problem. He’ll have to figure out something, maybe see a therapist instead of just a psychiatrist, maybe quit some of the things that could be stressing him out, if that’s the problem.”

He knew it wasn’t likely, but a thought kept intruding in his mind. “What if it’s me? What if I’m the problem?”

Given the serious air of the conversation, he was surprised to hear his friends laugh. “Oh, Keith, don’t be ridiculous. Lance adores you!” Allura said.

“You’re good for him,” Hunk said. Pidge and Shiro nodded.

“Allura, you’ve… known him for longer than all of us, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I met him over last summer. I guess Coran knew him the longest, though, since he traveled to Cuba during his college years and met Lance’s parents before Lance was born. They kept up a regular contact, and he knew all about their children when they had them. Lance was the second youngest, and the only one Coran’s met in person, but they'd chatted plenty during Lance's adolescence. Why do you ask?”

“Do you know if he’s tried anything like this before?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t know, honestly. From what Coran’s mentioned, I know his family has its fair share of mental health problems, so he was always ready to offer his support to them and Lance in turn. But, as for that… I can't say.”

“Okay. I mean, I guess it doesn’t make a huge difference,” he sighed. “Sorry. Just… trying to understand.”

She rubbed his arm comfortingly while he leaned closer against Shiro. Shutting his eyes, he took several, centering breaths.

He was being gently shaken awake what felt like seconds later.  He blinked through his sleep, mind slowly taking in the scene. It was bright, white, and very… sterile looking.

“What?” he asked, yawning.

Shiro shifted beneath him. “Oh thank god my arm’s been dead for an hour.”

“I fell asleep?” he asked, sitting up. He turned to see that it was Hunk’s hand that had roused him.

“Lance is awake,” he said. “I asked if he was okay to talk to you, and he said he’s ready.”

“How long was I out? Is he cleared to leave?”

“Like, two hours? And they talked to him, gave him some stuff to help his head clear up. He probably won’t be able to do anything too brain-intensive today or tomorrow, but he should be good to leave in, like, half an hour they said.”

He rose, joints stiff—his back was going to give him hell for falling asleep in such an uncomfortable spot. “Thanks for waking me. Um…” he rubbed his sweating hands over his shorts. “Guess I’ll go in, then.”

He followed after a nurse who’d been waiting patiently behind Hunk. Lance had been transferred from ICU to a room with multiple beds earlier, he’d been told, since he didn’t require as much attention as they’d initially thought. He was in the bed nearest the window, and he didn’t turn to face Keith until the nurse had left.

Keith leaned against the edge of the bed, taking Lance’s hand in his own.

“Hey,” he said, voice still deep from sleep. He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty shitty,” Lance said, dropping his gaze toward their hands. “I’m sorry, Keith. I don’t know why I did it… I just… a few weeks ago I started taking more pills than I needed, keeping them. And, like, I _feel_ fine! I haven’t been feeling negative about things, I thought I was doing good!”

Keith squeezed his hand.

“I can’t even imagine how you must feel… I’m so sorry…” Lance continued.

He swallowed thickly. “It’s… I mean, it’s not _fine_ , but I don’t blame you.”

“Please don’t cry, Hunk already did, and I did too.”

“I’m not going to cry,” Keith insisted, tears already threatening to spill. “I just… I love you, you know that?”

“What?” Lance’s mouth hung open. “No, you can’t. You should break up with me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m a wreck? And, even though everything in my life is going so well, even when I’m in love with a perfect guy, I’m still like this? Still crushed under these horrible thoughts.”

“You’re in love with me?”

He flushed, turning aside. “Uh, oops. If it makes it easier for you to leave me, I’ll take that back.”

“I already said I’m not leaving you. Look, earlier this week, you said something about not leaving things unsaid.”

“I did?”

“Do you not remember?”

“Not gonna lie, this week was a bit of a blur…”

“Oh.”

“I just kinda came to all of a sudden, and I had drank some wine, I was in my room. Then I remembered I’d been swiping those pills, that Hunk wasn’t there, that I’d lied to everyone about where I’d be. There wasn’t even any reason behind it, I don’t think? Like I thought I could sleep for a bit. Just kind of, ‘oh, I could, couldn’t I? That’d make things easier’-kinda thing. So I had another glass and a handful of the pills. Then, I slept, and here I was.”

“Well, on Wednesday, you said some things that, in retrospect, were a bit… fatalistic? I suppose. And, I wish I’d have told you that I loved you then.”

“That—“

“Maybe wouldn’t have changed things, I know. You said yourself that you can’t love away mental illness.”

“Manic Lance sounds pretty smart.”

“Manic?”

He nodded. “The doctors explained that my new meds may have not been suited for me. That they were inducing manic symptoms in addition to helping with the depression. I just thought I was getting better, you know? It really felt like it, I was so happy. But, I guess that wasn’t real, even. Am I ever going to be happy?”

“Of course you can still be happy. You can try new drugs, we can be better about looking out for signs.”

“I’m just… such a burden. I kinda wish I’d succeeded, but…”

“Lance, don’t say that,” he felt the first tear fall, shutting his eyes in an effort to keep the rest at bay.

“I’m sorry, I hope you know it’s not you. You’re amazing. But… you know, I guess I’m glad I didn’t, too? Like, I’m not all of a sudden super hyped about life, but, when I woke up, I kinda remembered that there are some good things. But, again, then I thought, why am I so ungrateful even though I have all these things? For you and my friends and family and life? I should be happy, but it’s so hard.”

“Hey, it’s okay, Lance. Because you’ve got all of us, don’t you? I told you that you could lean on me when you need, and that’s still true. Everyone else, too, loves you and is willing you help when we can.”

“But why can’t I be happy on my own? I hate needing help. I hate that from now on you’re all going to treat me like some kind of fragile thing who’ll overreact to the smallest upsetting thought.”

“You just have to trust us, Lance, that we won’t judge you for anything. We accept you, all of you, got that?”

After a few seconds, he nodded. “I really am so sorry for putting you through this. All of it, not just today.”

“Lance, stop. You’re not a burden, okay? You’re one of the most important people to me in the world. I love you,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “And we’re going to figure this out. You’ve already helped me, so much, so just let me be there for you, in whatever way you need.”

He nodded. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be very good about accepting help. But, thank you. Though, I honestly don’t even know what more you can do for me that you haven’t been doing already. I truly think this is something of an anomaly.”

“I’d be happy if that were the case—no more hospitals is fine by me. But, if it’s not, I’ll be here.”

“I just… how can you be so sure about everything? When I look at the future, it’s all a big mess that I don’t want anything to do with.”

“Well, I’ve been told before that I’ve got a super intense, passionate focus for a single goal that people find admirable.”

“I could add creepy, too, you know.”

“And,” he continued, ignoring the quip. “For the longest time, that goal was only about rugby. Getting into GU. Winning nationals. Going professional. But, then I met this beautiful nerd who was really into math and science and space and me, for some reason, and he became one of my goals, too, a part of it. I guess I look forward to the future because I know that I’m gonna work as hard as I have to to make sure that your ass is a part of it.”

“My entire ass?”

“Yes, your entire, flat ass, and your issues and insecurities and your dorky laugh and your snoring and anxiety and everything.”

He smiled softly, his own eyes looking a bit watery. “You think my ass is flat?”

“Very much so.”

“Should I do some squats or something?”

He shook his head. “No, you’re perfect the way you are.”

 

* * *

 

Keith tried to not “walk on eggshells” around Lance, as he’d requested, though he did get a bit clingier in the weeks after his release from the hospital. The first week, he’d even asked his coaches for time off from practice, which they granted without question. Lance had gotten over the constant apologizing and guilty glances within a few days, though he was soon met with stress in an unfortunately expected place: the hospital bill. Dealing with that had also required him to call his parents about what had happened since it had been billed to their insurance, and even with insurance it was a hefty sum. Keith offered to pay for it himself, but Lance refused, saying he had to own up to what he’d done. So, Keith encouraged him to apply for a new special circumstance scholarship he’d “stumbled upon” on the GU financial aid website—Mom 2 had been happy to make a donation to be used for emergency medical funds for students. Whether or not Lance knew Mom 2’s maiden name and thus would make the connection, Keith wasn’t sure. 

Lance changed up medications again, and started seeing a therapist. Keith would usually do some work or play on his phone in the waiting room during, and Lance would vent to him about it afterwards—a double dose of therapy, it seemed.

Things were going well; Lance applied for an RA position in the freshman dorm for the upcoming school year, he was already starting up on his project that he planned to work on during the summer, and he’d decided to quit his tutoring job, the time commitment too much. He did land a much easier gig that, while it offered fewer hours, was much more flexible. Gimli’s girlfriend who came to every match was graduating come May, and Lance was happy to step in in her place as the team's social media guy. If he was a bit generous with praises of Keith in the posts, no one thought to comment on it.

Keith brought Lance to meet his parents over Easter Break, and they may have fallen even harder for him than Keith did. He was hardly surprised, given Lance’s natural charm, though with how hard it was for them to leave them any privacy, so fixated were they on getting to know Lance better, he declined their invitation to come back for Spring Break. Instead, they took a road trip, hitting up a couple national parks and spending the days together. While of course they spent most of their free time in each other’s company during school, and not just to hang out or study anymore, the trip was illuminating for their relationship. Being around each 24/7, cramped in a car, smelly from camping and hiking, not having anything to distract themselves with but each other… it really helped you get to know someone.

They both learned that they were in one of those forever-kind of relationships, which while Keith had known for a long time, Lance found as a bit more of a surprise. He still wasn’t so sold on the whole idea of a future, sometimes, but he found that having something, a tether in an otherwise scarily empty void, wasn’t so bad as he’d thought it would be. Everyone saw the pictures of the trip, heard the stories of fishing mishaps and possible cryptid run-ins, but there were also some parts of that trip that were only for Keith and Lance to know.

After placing third in the 7s national tournament, Keith was invited the Collegiate All-Star exhibition games, giving him the chance to practice and play alongside the top players in the nation. He spent the summer in Florida while Lance, having earned his research grant, stayed in the small apartment that Keith and Shiro planned to move into come fall.

Lance’s RA duties were difficult and time-consuming, but he found them incredibly rewarding. Since his charges were all freshmen, they weren’t so confident as to defy too many rules or be overtly disrespectful. He was hardly the strictest of RAs, anyway, preferring to treat the students like adults, even if GU rules were a bit more juvenile at times. Everyone loved coming to him to talk be it about their feelings, about their career discernment, about relationships, just about any old thing. They also liked his boyfriend, who they thought was cool in an edgy kind of way, much to Keith’s embarrassment and Lance’s delight, with a few of them even trying out for rugby because of him. That fall, the 15s team made it to nationals, though lost in the first round. It was bittersweet, because it was only due to their loss that Keith had enough time to make it to Chicago where Lance had been invited to speak on his summer research project. He’d barely made it into the crowd, texting Lance who was sitting on a panel alongside accomplished scholars, the kind that he aspired to be like. Thankfully, Lance had broken a rule and brought his phone up on stage, and a minute before starting, he saw the message, looked up, and saw Keith. The presentation was flawless, though Keith was sure he would’ve been just as perfect if he hadn’t arrived.

The whole gang spent that Thanksgiving at Keith’s, much to his parent’s surprise. They were both awful cooks, unfortunately, so Hunk, Lance, and Shiro ended up doing most of the work while the rest sat and watched football. Winter break parted them, as Lance was off to Seoul for a school-funded research trip. His professor had a new proposal, and Lance was up to the task, flying halfway around the world to a country where he didn’t know the language.

Well, Keith assumed he didn’t know the language.

He’d been secretly taking Spanish lessons from Allura, wanting to be able to speak to Lance’s family in their mother tongue once they met. As it turned out, Lance had much the same idea to learn Korean, as he’d revealed during their first international Skype call. Keith chose to keep his talent hidden for the right moment.

Come spring, the drama of the hour was Allura’s angst over how best to propose to Shiro. He had accepted a job in Boston, his degree in electrical engineering paying off well, while Allura would be entering into a law program… at Harvard…

Keith had some damn smart friends.

Still, despite having their lives together, Allura and Shiro had yet to live together, and she wasn’t sure exactly whether they should before marriage. She also wasn’t sure if Shiro wanted a big proposal or wedding, to which everyone assured her, rolling their eyes, that he did.

She decided to ask after graduation, as both their families would be there. Keith delayed his return to the All-Star tournament for a few days so he could celebrate with them, and Lance also stayed back, his research internship out in California having no problem with him missing orientation, thankfully.

After the summer tournament, Keith returned home, and his parents surprised him with tickets to visit Lance for his birthday—Lance’s birthday, that is, not his; on his last birthday, they’d given him socks. He was too happy to be jealous of Lance, of course.

Their junior year was particularly difficult, though only due to distance. Lance studied abroad in Spain in the fall, while Keith traveled to Perth in the Spring. Pidge and Hunk were both in London for the entire year, too, so it required some effort for them to all work out a regular communication schedule. After Lance’s fall semester ended, and after taking second at the 15s national tournament, Keith flew out to Madrid, and they stuck around Europe for a few weeks, visiting London as well as the other major tourist destinations. When Lance flew back to GU to move back into Keith’s emptied apartment, Keith flew to Australia, as he’d been in communication with a local team who agreed to let him train with them during his time there.

He really came into his own playing with non-college athletes. He’d been nervous at first, with how much bigger and older they were. A lot of them were faster, too, and just… better. The first few practices, he returned home with bruises, both on his body and his ego. After a few pep talks from Lance, however, he returned with a hunger to learn from these guys, not to be afraid of them. It took some time, as well as an initiation involving more beer than he could remember, but soon he was one of the guys. Once school started up, he couldn’t make the commute out to them every day, but even four times a week was sufficient to prepare him for his final season at GU.

Back in the States, Lance made the executive decision to get a pet cat, as the empty apartment wasn’t doing well for his mood. While the young calico was hardly trained in such manners, she did prove to be an excellent source of comfort and therapy for him in his friends' absence. He also spent a lot of time with Coran, who helped him find an internship at a pharmaceutical company not far from GU’s campus. He started a few weeks after the spring semester ended, and Keith, having taken a slightly lighter course load for the sake of rugby, also returned to GU for summer classes. They’d been warned against living together while in college, but as far as they were concerned, it wasn’t a huge deal at all. The house was big enough that they each had a room, though they usually spent the nights together. Still, both could take their space if they ever needed it, either to study or just be alone for a time, and they only grew closer. As Lance had expected, Keith fell in love with their new pet, who stayed with them even through their final year at GU.

By graduation, the pair had a number of lauds and titles under their belts. Keith and the team had clinched nationals his senior year, both in 15s as well as 7s, and he’d signed onto a professional team in the States—he’d always thought he’d end up playing abroad, since that’s where the best talent was, but Lance wasn’t abroad, so he didn’t even consider those offers. Plus, he figured it would be the same as it had been with GU: maybe rugby wasn’t so popular in the States, but he could build something there, alongside the amazing athletes who’d inspired him. He’d caught the eye of the national team, as well, and planned to attend their try-outs later that summer.

Lance had two research publications to his name as well as an award for his undergraduate thesis work. He’d graduated summa cum laude (Keith liked to joke that he, on the other hand, had graduated with more of a “thank you laude”), and had been accepted to a PhD program in a city that just so happened to have a rugby team that recently recruited one Keith Kogane, the famed Collegiate All-Star MVP.

For Lance, the days leading up to graduation were hard. He knew his family couldn’t come out, as the cost of getting them all visas and flights was much too high. Still, he knew that they were watching the livestream, and that was enough for him.

He was surprised, then, on answering an unexpected knock at the front door, to see his parents and siblings on his porch the day before graduation. He’d simply stared, thinking that he was imagining things. Keith stepped past him, extending a hand to his father, then his mother, Spanish rolling off his tongue with ease.

“Lance?” he said, looking back expectantly. “Are you going to say ‘hi’, anytime soon?” he had switched back to English.

“ _Your boyfriend is such a better host than you, Lance!”_ his mother tutted. “ _Where’s my kiss? Take my bag, sweetie_.”

“Am I dreaming?” he’d said instead.

Keith took his hand. “I know you said you were fine that they couldn’t come, but I also know that was a lie. So, here they are. Surprise.”

“Wait, you did this?” he asked.

He nodded.

“ _He was very kind, you picked a good man!”_ his father smiled. “ _He and Coran helped us with everything!_ ”

“Everything?” he repeated. “Keith, this is amazing! But, surely it was too expensive.”

“It was worth it,” he smiled. “Now, just go say ‘hi’ to your family, please. I’ll take their bags in.”

Lance took a small step forward, then a second. Then, he threw his arms around his mother and bawled, years without her hugs catching up to him. She kissed his cheeks, then laughed as her husband and two other children joined in on the hug. Keith gave them their privacy on the porch, though after a while they trickled into the house after him, gathering around their table and on the couches as naturally as possible.

The only downside of the whole situation was that Lance’s mom refused to believe that the young couple shared a bed. When Lance started following Keith to their room, she’d quickly shoved her eldest son in the room first. So it was that, for their week-long visit, Keith had to share a bed with Manuel. Lance meanwhile shared with his sister Camila, and Lance’s parents took the fold-out bed in the living room. Keith couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter, not with how happy Lance was to be with his family.

Keith’s own parents came in hours before graduation, having been due the night before but delayed by adverse weather. After the ceremony, the two families met in Keith and Lance’s home, which became the party house for evening. Everyone came by, it seemed, most of them accompanied by their families. Pidge, Hunk, Coran... Even Allura, Shiro, and Matt flew in for graduation. Rugby teammates, Lance’s former residents, random friends they’d collected, even those they’d forgotten about but still cared for, stopped in for a quick drink and to offer well-wishes.

The party carried on late into the night, and Keith and Lance managed to slip out from under Mrs. Sanchez’s watchful eye due to her being a bit too inebriated to see them sneaking into their bedroom.

After locking the door behind him, Lance fell onto the bed with a groan.

“Oh, I’ve missed you, girl,” he said, hands roaming over the comforter. “The spare bed is so uncomfortable!” he whined.

Laughing, Keith fell next to him. From her hiding spot under the bed, Robyn emerged, positioning herself on Lance’s back.

“Thank you so much, again, Keith,” Lance said with a grin. “I still can’t believe you actually brought them here. And learned Spanish! Although, I must admit, I’m a bit annoyed that your Spanish is better than my Korean.”

He chuckled. “And I can’t believe we haven’t even been able to have our awesome ‘thank you’ sex,” he joked.

“You and your one-track mind!” he scoffed. “No better than a Bonobo, honestly.”

“I… I don’t even know if that’s an insult or not,” he confessed.

“Me either.” Much to Robyn’s distaste, Lance rolled onto his side so he could face Keith. “I love you.”

Keith mirrored the position. “What a coincidence. I love you, too.”

“Nice,” Lance nodded.

Keith shrugged. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool I guess.”

Lance only hummed, looking pensive. He gave a soft smile after a few seconds of silence.

“What’s on your mind?” Keith asked.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I was thinking that I was super lucky to have met you, and that you have some amazingly gorgeous eyes. And it reminded me of the time we went to Montana and we could see so many stars, since your eyes are _that_ pretty. And then, I farted. Mama’s tacos are getting to me, man.”

Keith sniffed. “Ew.”

“Sorry.”

“Here I thought you were being sentimental.”

“I was! But, nature calls. I can’t help it.” He scooched closer. “Just like I can’t help how much I love you.”

“Aw…”

“Or how much I wanna bang you.”

“Dude, we’re having a party right now.”

“We can be quiet!”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word. Plus, Robyn’s here, and she can’t go out there since Mom 1’s allergic.”

“The closet.”

“You wanna bang in the closet?”

“No, we’d put Robyn in there.”

“First of all, rude.”

Lance’s hand trailed down Keith’s arm. Despite the relative innocence of the gesture, the look in Lance’s eye was decidedly more wicked. Keith had grown plenty familiar with that look over the years, and he shivered in response, his attraction to Lance just as strong as it had been in the beginning.

“I hate you so much,” he said, inching closer.

“I know you do, babe,” Lance smiled, knowing he was victorious. “Now, be a good boy and put this cat in the closet.”

 

* * *

 

“So, Mr. Kogane—“

“Please, call me Keith,” he said with an easy smile—years of interviews had taught him how to fake a pleasant air well enough, never betraying his nerves.

“Keith,” the man smiled. “Well, first, I think congratulations are in order.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“To even be a part of the first Eagles squad to win the world cup in modern history in impressive, but you were also the captain as well as the tournament MVP. Truly, you are an athlete like no other.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Anyone else on the team could be captain, or MVP. They’re all amazing guys.”

“And humble, to boot. Still, I’m impressed. I’m not much of a sports guy, you know, but when I heard that you were coming on my show, I did a quick crash course on you.”

“Ah, I hope it wasn’t too boring.”

“Anything but! I was fascinated by your story, read all your interviews. Most of them are more oriented towards sports, understandably, so I wonder why you chose to appear on my stage, instead.”

“I have to admit, it’s mainly because my husband’s such a huge fan,” he turned toward the audience, waving in Lance’s general direction. Lance was vibrating in his seat, clearly ecstatic just to be there.

“That’s right, Lance Sanchez, isn't it?”

“Doctor Lance Sanchez,” he corrected.

“Right, I apologize. Tell us a bit more about him.”

“Well, he’s smart, obviously. He tells me what he’s researching, and though I’m not exactly sure what he’s talking about half the time that he does, since it’s all so technical, I do know that his work is revolutionary in the field of cancer research. Recently, his work has taken him to Geneva, where he presented his findings to a whole bunch of other super smart people. It’s incredible, what he’s done, and I know he’ll only do more.”

“Geneva? That distance must be hard on your relationship.”

“Oh, it’s not at all, well, mainly since I go with him. I’m just the trophy husband.”

The host laughed, as did the audience. “A trophy husband with trophies himself. How did you two meet?”

“Well, it was a bit of a mess, I must admit,” he smiled on seeing Lance’s pout. “This man had the audacity to promise that he’d help me get an A in calculus.”

“And did he?”

“You know, rugby had been the only love in my life for so long. But then, Lance came into my life, and I fell. Hard. He gave me my happiest memories. Gives me a lifetime of love in a single kiss. The type of stuff they make movies about, from the once-upon-a-time to the happily-ever-after. He gave me a better understanding of myself, while also giving me so much more of him to discover every day. Gave me a cat, too, that was a bit of surprise. Gave me unwavering support when I failed. He gave me all that I hadn’t known I’d wanted or needed.”

He looked past the bright lights, the cameras. The crowd was inconsequential to him. He’d given countless interviews, publicly embarrassed himself and Lance alike with his over-the-top declarations in most of them, too. Whether the topic was rugby, or politics, or life, it always would come back to Lance.

“He gave me everything,” he returned Lance’s loving look. “The only good thing he didn’t give me? A damn A in that calculus class. I only scraped by with an A-. The one thing I was hoping for in the beginning, and I didn’t even get it,” he shook his head, but his tone was playful. “Still worth it, in the end.” Lance rolled his eyes at him, but he couldn’t fight his smile.

Yeah. It was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh yay, i hope you guys enjoyed this! i swear i didn't go into this intending so much angst, so hopefully the fluff made up for it in the end :D let me know what you thought about it, and if you liked this, check out some of my other klance fics! i'm also on tumblr under the same name. follow me if you real


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